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1 




Brenda’s Cousin at 
RadclifFe 

A Story for Girls 


BY 

HELEN LEAH REED 

Author of “Brenda, Her School and Her Club” 
“Brenda’s Summer at Rockley,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY ALICE BARBER STEPHENS 


New Edition 


Boston 

LITTLE, Brown, and company 

1907 


Vi i>f CONGRESS 

i \wo U«oies ftaceJvod 

oci sb 

!>t)yno!*»» Entiy 

gw ^ JT ^^07 

CLASS 4 XXc., No. 

fqcb$ ^ 

COPY B. 


‘V 

\ 


Copyright, 1902, 1907, 

By Little, Brown, and Company, 

Ail rights reserved. 


Alkiijsd Mudge & Son, Inc., Printers, 
Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 


MRS. LOUIS AGASSIZ, 

THE HONORED FIRST PRESIDENT OF RADCLIFFE COLLEGE, 
WHO HAS HAD NO SUCCESSOR IN OFFICE, AND 
WHO CAN HAVE NO SUCCESSOR 


IN THE AFFECTION OF RADCLIFFE GRADUATES 


r 


r I WAT the young girls for whom it is written may see 
-L in « Brenda’s Cousin ” a clear picture of Eadclift'e 
College undergraduate life is the sincere wish of the 
author, who hopes also that her fellow-graduates may 
overlook the one or two slight anachronisms necessary 
to a contemporary picture. 


' * { •; 

t t k ? u 







CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

. I. New Acquaintances 1 

II. The Freshman Reception 12 

III. The First “ Idler ” 22 

IV. Pamela’s Perseverance 29 

• V. College Callers 38 

VI. Setting to Work 47 

VII. All Kinds of Girls 56 

VIII. The Mid-years 66 

IX. Two Catastrophes 76 

X. Discussions and Discussions ...... 90 

XI. Efforts to Help 100 

XII. Harvard Class Day lli» 

XHl. Various Ambitions . 130 

XIV. In Disguise 143 

XV. Angelina 15 r 

XVI. Who wrote It? 168 

XVII. A Private Detective 180 

XVIII. Work and Play 189 

XIX. The Operetta 201 

XX. Juniors 211 

XXL A Fortunate Accident - 222 

XXII. Annabel and Clarissa 233 

XXIir. Clouds Cleared Away 243 

XXIV. Seniors All 255 

XXV. A Strange Meeting 268 

XXVI. The House Party 280 

XXVII. Nearing Class Day . 298 

XXVIII. Commencement — and the End 311 

XXIX. A Glance Backward 319 


I 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

From Drawings by Alice Barber Stephem 


“ One morning half a dozen girls clustered before the 


bulletin board ” Frontispiece 

“ ‘ An American girl — she spoke with emphasis — *is 

her own best chaperon Page 85 ^ 

“ Clarissa moved about the room, explaining ” . ... “ 174^ 

“Lois made the bandage and put it on with a pro- 
fessional air ” “ 225 ^ 

“ ‘Julia,’ said Ruth the next morning, as the two sat in 

the conversation room ” “ 274 / 



BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


I 

NEW ACQUAINTANCES 

A DROP of ink splashed on the cover of Julia Bourne’s 
blue-book. 

“Oh, I beg your pardon, I wasn’t thinking,” mur- 
mured an apologetic voice, as Julia glanced up in surprise. 
A small, pale girl standing beside her desk had evidently 
held her fountain pen point down with disastrous result. 

“Oh, it did no great harm,” responded Julia, dexter- 
ously applying her blotter. Like the other girl, she 
spoke in an undertone, for silence was still the rule of 
the room. 

“I’m thankful, however, that my book was closed,” 
she said to herself, as the other passed on. “A blot on 
an inner page might prejudice the examiner, and I shall 
need all his good-will.” 

It was the Tuesday before the opening of college, and 
examinations were going on to enable some students to 
take off conditions imposed by the June finals, or to per- 
mit others — like Julia — to anticipate some study of the 
Freshman year. 


1 


2 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Before handing in her book Julia corrected some errors, 
for there still lacked ten minutes of the close of the ex- 
amination hour. As she sat there reading the printed 
questions, one by one, she was thankful for the cool day. 
How insufferably hot had been those two Junes when she 
had taken her preliminaries and her finals! Old Fay 
House then had swarmed with girls, lively, solemn, 
silent, chattering, short, tall, thin, stout, dowdy, attrac- 
tive, — but why enumerate ? They were as varied in 
aspect, and probably in disposition, as those other girls 
who never think of college. In comparison with the 
spring crowds, the girls to-day were but a handful. 

Julia, glancing toward the window, caught a glimpse of 
the yellowing elms of Garden Street ; and a soft Septem- 
ber breeze blew across her cheek. Then her eye wandered 
to the photograph over the old-fashioned mantle-piece, and 
she thought that the class-room, except for its chairs and 
desks, was like the sitting-room of a private house. 

Julia handed in her book promptly, but some of the 
others gave theirs up reluctantly, as if to say, “Oh, for 
ten minutes more, or even five minutes. It would make 
all the difference in the world to me.” One of these 
girls, who was tall and strong -looking, with short, curl- 
ing hair, expressed her feelings emphatically. 

“I don’t see,” she said, as Julia and she left the room 
together, “how you got through so soon. You haven’t 
been writing for ten minutes. Why, if we had five hours 
instead of two, I should still need an hour more. Were n’t 
you frightened to death at the preliminaries ? ” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


3 


“I barely survived,” replied Julia, entering into the 
other’s mood. “ There ’s an art in taking examinations 
that I’m only beginning to learn.” 

“Well, the worst is over! Harvard, they say (and of 
course it ’s the same with Radcliffe), is the hardest college 
to enter and the easiest to graduate from. That 's why I 
left my happy Western home. I don’t mind struggling to 
get in, but I want an easy time after I ’ve once entered 
college.” 

“You’re from the West?” queried Julia. 

“ Oh, yes, from ‘ the wild and woolly West ’ as you call 
it here. I took my preliminaries in Chicago, although 
my home ’s farther off. Our colleges are just as good as 
any East, at least Pa says so. But I said ‘ the best is n’t 
too good for me, and if Harvard ’s the best of all for men, 
why Radcliffe must be the best for women. ’ As soon as 
I ’d thought it out I made up my mind to come here. I 
could n’t have done better, could I ? ” 

“ Why, Radcliffe has a pretty good standing in this part 
of the world.” 

“You don’t speak with enthusiasm.” 

“ Oh, I was only thinking that a good education can be 
obtained in a Western college. I’ve lived in the West 
myself,” she explained. 

“Let me embrace you,” cried the Western girl, impul- 
sively, fortunately without suiting the action to the word. 

“You see it makes me tired the way people here pre- 
tend not to know anything about the West; but I honestly 
believe that you realize where Kansas is, and that St. 


4 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Louis and Chicago are a few miles apart, and that the 
Mississippi is east of the Rocky Mountains.” 

“Oh, you could probably give me points in Western 
geography.” 

“Perhaps, but let me introduce myself. My name is 
Clarissa Herter, and my home is Kansas. My age is a 
little more than it ought to be — for a Freshman — for 
I’ve wasted a year at college elsewhere.” 

Julia smiled at this frank inventory, and she felt that 
she could do no less than tell Clarissa something about 
herself. 

“So you’re an orphan!” cried Clarissa, “and you’ve 
lived with relatives for two years or more. Well, you 
must have had a pretty good disposition to stand all the 
wear and tear. There ’s nothing so hard as living with 
relatives — except one’s parents. As to your personal 
appearance, it suits me right down to the ground — don’t 
look at your boots, ” she added. “I include them in the 
list.” 

Just then a proctor approaching introduced to the two 
the timid girl who had blotted Julia’s book. 

“I asked for the introduction,” said the newcomer, 
whose name was Northcote, “because I wished to apolo- 
gize for my carelessness.” 

“Now, really,” responded Julia, “the blot did no 
harm.” 

“But if it had gone through the cover?” 

“Oh, that would have been nothing.” 

“But I fear that I did more mischief than you think. 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


5 


There ’s a little ink spot on the side breadth of your skirt, 
and I ’m sure that it came from my pen.” 

“Oh,” cried Julia, looking where Pamela pointed, “that 
spot may have come from my own pen ; and besides, the 
gown has seen its best days.” 

“ Well, I ’m very sorry,” continued Miss Northcote. 

In the meantime Clarissa had risen from the low, red 
couch, on which they had been sitting. “You must be a 
New Englander.” 

“I ’m from Vermont.” 

“I thought so,” cried Clarissa. “You have a well- 
developed conscience. You seem to be apologizing for 
something that perhaps you didn’t do.” 

“Let us go upstairs to the library,” interposed Julia, 
noticing that Miss Northcote was made uncomfortable by 
Clarissa’s badinage. 

“Isn’t it pleasant! I had no idea it was so homelike! ” 
exclaimed Julia on the threshold of the library. 

“Do you mean you haven’t been here before? Why, 
I explored the whole building from top to bottom last 
June. I didn’t wait for a special invitation,” cried 
Clarissa. 

“It was so warm then!” Julia felt almost bound to 
apologize. 

The room that they had entered justified the term 
“homelike” to the fullest extent. It had none of the 
stiffness of a college hall, although shelves of books were 
eveiywhere, always invitingly within reach. The deep- 
mullioned windows, the high mantle-piece and broad fire- 


6 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


place all had a decided charm. From the window that 
Julia approached, through the elms that shaded Fay 
House, there was a glimpse of the Soldiers’ Monument 
on the Common, and nearer at hand the time-scarred 
Washington Elm. After looking into one or two smaller 
rooms filled with books, Clarissa suggested that they go 
into the open air. 

“ There must be something of the gypsy in my blood, 
for I begrudge every minute spent indoors at this season. 
Clarissa! Clarissa!” she cried dramatically, “you must 
out and walk.” 

“Is your name Clarissa? ” asked the Vermont girl. 

“ Why not? Does n’t it suit me ? ” 

“Well, it’s strange,” responded the other, “for I am 
called Pamela.” 

“ How odd ! Why, people may begin to call us ‘ the 
heroines, ’ unless we show them that we ’re made of 
stronger stuff than Richardson admired.” 

“Poor Richardson! How he would be horrified to see 
us modern girls going to college! You must belong to 
sentimental families to have those names.” 

“I was named for my aunt,” explained Pamela with 
dignity. 

“Well, I ’m afraid that my mother took ‘ Clarissa ’ from 
a novel,” admitted the Western girl. 

After leaving Fay House, the two others walked with 
Julia toward Brattle Street. They had gone but a short 
distance when Clarissa exclaimed with surprise that it was 
nearly one o’clock. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 7 

“My luncheon is at half-past one,” said Julia, “but 
perhaps yours is earlier.” 

“Yes, at my boarding-house we are very plebeian. At 
one o’clock we have dinner, not luncheon, while you, I 
dare say, have dinner at half-past six.” 

“Of course,” replied Julia, while Clarissa, echoing “of 
course,” added, “Then you must be a regular swell. But 
I thought that I ’d feel better to find a boarding-place in 
Cambridge, where their manners and customs are like ours 
at home.” 

Not to leave Pamela out of the conversation, Julia 
asked her if she had found a boarding-place, and Pamela 
replied that she had not yet decided on a house. She 
might have added that all the rooms that thus far she had 
seen were beyond her slender purse. Before they reached 
Julia’s door, Pamela bade the others good-bye. 

“She’s almost too good, isn’t she?” was Clarissa’s 
comment as Pamela disappeared in the distance. 

“I like her,” returned Julia, begging the question. 

“Oh, so do I; with that neat little figure, and those 
melancholy gray eyes, she is my very idea of a Puritan 
maiden. You are something like one yourself,” she 
concluded, “ and I hope that you ’ll let me call on you 
occasionally.” 

“Why, of course, and I will call on you, too, if I may.” 

Thus with the feeling that each had made a friend, the 
two Freshmen parted, both looking forward with interest 
to the college year. 

Julia went to Rockley that same Tuesday afternoon. 


8 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


and was warmly welcomed by Brenda at the station. The 
younger girl, it is true, teased her cousin about being a 
Freshman, yet at the same time she showed so much 
affection, despite her teasing, that she hardly seemed the 
same Brenda who not long before had found in every act 
of Julia’s some cause for dissatisfaction. 

Rockley was the summer place of Mr. and Mrs. Robert 
Barlow, the uncle and aunt with whom, for two years, 
Julia Bourne had made her home. It was on the sea- 
shore, little more than twenty miles from Boston, and 
Julia had passed two happy vacations there. She had 
gone to live with her uncle and aunt soon after her 
father’s death, and had completed her preparation for 
college at Miss Crawdon’s school, the same school that 
Brenda and her intimate friends attended. Brenda, 
Edith, Nora, and Belle were inseparables, while Julia had 
been more intimate with Ruth Roberts, the Roxbury girl 
who was now her room-mate at Cambridge. 

The Barlows were to stay at Rockley until late October, 
and Mrs. Barlow regretted that Julia must spend that 
beautiful autumn month in Cambridge. She remarked at 
dinner that Julia looked pale, and said that she and 
Brenda had decided that this resulted from examinations. 

“ Why, you can’t imagine how weak I feel,” Brenda had 
added, “after an examination. You know that Miss 
Crawdon makes us have them, though few of us are going 
to college.” 

“It pleases me,” Mr. Barlow had interposed, “that you 
and your friends should get even this indirect advantage 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


9 


from Radcliffe. In time the average private schoolgirl 
may have an equal chance with boys.” 

“Why, papa, you never have wished me to go to 
college.” 

“No, my dear, but I often have thought that you suf- 
fered at school — ” 

“Yes, papa, I have suffered at school, often.” 

“ My idea of suffering probably differs from yours. I 
mean that you suffer from a lack of thoroughness. Thor- 
oughness is the first essential of college preparation.” 

“Why, papa, girls can fit for college at Miss Craw- 
don’s. Julia and Ruth and several others prepared for 
the examinations. But let us change the subject,” said 
Brenda, adding, “What are those Radcliffe girls like? 
Are they very queer ? ” 

“Why, no indeed,” replied Julia loyally. Yet even as 
she spoke she had a vision of Pamela and Clarissa, to 
whom Brenda might apply her adjective, although to each 
in a different way. 

“After all,” interposed Mr. Barlow, “thirty-five years 
ago who would have imagined girls in college? Why, 
even twenty years ago a man would have been thought 
foolish to prophesy that within his lifetime girls would 
be admitted to full Harvard privileges.” 

“Oh, but papa, it isn’t really the same as Harvard. 
The boys say that it is quite different.” 

“Then it’s a difference without much distinction. 
Professor Dummer the other day told me that Harvard 
and Radcliffe students have identical examinations in all 


10 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


subjects, as well as the same courses of study. But I will 
grant that in athletics and that kind of thing they have n’t 
the same chance as Harvard boys.” 

At this moment the long glass door was pushed open, 
and Philip stood within the room. The whole family 
greeted him heartily, for they had not seen him since his 
return from Europe. He told them that his mother and 
Edith had decided to stay a month longer abroad, and that 
he was spending a day or two on his yacht in Marblehead 
Harbor. 

“ On Thursday I must be in Cambridge, and after that 
the ‘ Balloon ’ goes out of commission for the season.” 

The young people soon went out on the piazza, where 
they made themselves comfortable with cushions and 
wraps. 

“It’s a great thing to be young,” said Mr. Barlow, as 
their laughter rippled through the open window. Two 
girls from a neighboring cottage had joined them, and 
with them was their brother, also a Harvard undergrad- 
uate. They had more in common with Brenda than with 
Julia, and thus the latter was free to answer Philip’s 
many questions about Radcliffe. 

Although two or three years Julia’s senior, Philip had 
of late acquired the habit of turning to her for advice. 
To himself he admitted that her level-headedness had 
more than once saved him from making a fool of himself. 
Philip Blair had just escaped being spoiled after the 
fashion of most only sons with plenty of money. His 
parents had always been so ready to consider his wishes 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


11 


that he had come to think the quick gratification of his 
tastes a necessity. Because he was good-looking and 
had agreeable manners, older men and women were apt to 
flatter him, and his schoolmates fed his vanity in their 
eagerness for his friendship. Without being really weak, 
Philip was easily influenced; and though in school he 
never had been in disgrace, more than once he had been 
near suspension from college. A certain indolence made 
it hard to shake off his undesirable associates. But even 
the slow-thinking Edith had discovered that Philip had a 
real regard for Julia’s opinion. 

“ Mamma and I are very glad that Philip likes to talk 
to a sensible girl like Julia, for we were afraid that his 
head might be turned, with so many silly girls always 
running after him. ” Philip’s college friends — those 
whom he asked to dine with him sometimes, or took to 
call on Edith’s friends — were afraid of Julia. 

Hearing that she was fitted for college, they could not 
understand how Philip had the courage to talk with her, 
or even to dance with her. They supposed that he was 
polite to her simply because she was a friend of Edith’s. 
“Not that she is n’t a nice-looking girl, but she must be 
frightfully strong-minded to think of going to college.” 

Knowing the Harvard sentiment toward Radclifte, 
therefore, Julia was prepared for more or less teasing 
from Philip, and yet as she bade him good-bye she was 
pleased to be able to remind him that he had said hardly 
a thing to discourage her about her college career. 


II 


THE FRESHMAN RECEPTION 

When Julia approached Fay House on Thursday, the 
opening of the term, there were girls on the steps, girls 
in the halls, girls besieging the Secretary's office with 
questions; old students stood about discussing all kinds of 
things, from their summer experiences to their proposed 
courses of study. But the Freshmen were less often in 
groups. In single file they waited their turn at the office, 
or sat in the conversation room, catching scraps of wisdom 
from the lips of the older girls who passed by. 

“ Oh, last year I had five and a half courses, but I ’ve 
promised papa to be more sensible and limit myself to 
four, so as to have some time for other things.” 

This from a serious-looking girl, and then from another 
more frivolous, “Well, I tried to forget everything this 
summer, except how to have a good time. It was delight- 
ful not to have even a theme or a forensic on my mind. 
I was a walking encyclopedia last June, but now I feel 
absolutely empty-headed.” 

“What in the world,” came from another group, “pos- 
sessed you to take Pol. Econ. this year? I thought you 
were trying for honors in classics.” 

“So I am,” in a rather melancholy tone; “but I ’m tired 
of having nothing but Greek and Latin. My future bread 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


13 


and butter may depend on them, as I’m to be a teacher 
of the classics, but I ’m indulging in Pol. Econ. as a 
luxury.” 

“A luxury! Well, you ’ll pay for it.” 

Julia, seated at the reading table, was not only amused 
by these bits of conversation, but was interested in watch- 
ing the passing girls. 

“Isn’t it great?” cried Ruth, joining her. “It’s a 
little like the first day at school, and yet it’s different. 
Who is that queer-looking girl, she ’s actually bowing to 
you,” with an intonation of disapproval; “why, you don’t 
know her, do you ? ” 

“ Yes, I met her yesterday. She ’s a Freshman from 
the West.” 

Clarissa now reached them, grasping Julia’s hand with 
a hearty “Well, I am glad to see you! ” 

“Have you chosen your electives yet?” asked Julia, 
after a minute or two. “ Are n’t they bewildering? ” 

“It isn’t the elective, I’ve been told,” responded 
Clarissa, “but the man who gives them that makes the 
difference. The younger the instructor, the worse his 
marks. He thinks that he shows his own importance by 
making ‘ A ’ and ‘ B ’ marks few and far between. I ’m 
going in for all the starred courses I can get, for then 
there ’ll be more chance of my having real professors to 
teach me.” 

Ruth hurried Julia away from Clarissa to an appoint- 
ment with a history professor. He had wished to talk 
with them before consenting to their entering his class. 


14 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


He was pleased to find them so interested, adding, as he 
gave his consent: 

“You must be prepared for hard work, as Freshmen are 
rarely permitted to take this course. I hope that you 
read Latin at sight, for you may have to make researches 
in some old books.” 

Then he bowed and left them, and Ruth looked at 
Julia, and the latter, understanding the question that 
Ruth would ask, replied, “Of course I’ll help you;” 
while Ruth, whose Latin was weaker than Julia's, re- 
sponded, “You always were a dear.” 

Julia and Ruth had arranged to board in the same 
house, having separate bedrooms, but sharing a large 
study. This was a square, corner room, with three win- 
dows. One looked down on a bit of old-fashioned garden, 
and the other two gave a view of some of the stately 
houses on Brattle Street. Their landlady, or hostess, as 
she liked to be called, was the widow of a Harvard 
instructor, who, besides a widow and two children, had 
left a slim little book on the Greek accusative. Mrs. 
Colton always had the book in plain sight on her library 
table, and she believed that had her husband lived he 
would have been one of the most distinguished of the 
faculty. She had long refused to open her house to 
Annex, or Radcliffe, students. Like many other con- 
servative people, she did not approve of the presence of 
women students in Cambridge, and she did not care to 
encourage the new woman’s college by taking its students 
to board. But when the new Harvard dormitories made 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


15 


it harder for her to get the right kind of students to take 
her rooms, she began to think about the possibilities of 
Radcliffe. When she happened to hear that Mrs. Robert 
Barlow was looking for a home for her niece, she imme- 
diately sent word that she would be very glad to have her 
consider her rooms. She saw that it would give her 
house prestige to have Julia and Ruth her first Radcliffe 
boarders. Mrs. Barlow and the girls were well pleased 
with the rooms, especially as Mrs. Colton was to take no 
other boarders. 

Ruth and Julia would hardly have been girls, however, 
had they been perfectly satisfied with the arrangement of 
the furniture as planned by Mrs. Colton and Mrs. Barlow. 
With the exception of a few pictures, the study was sup- 
posed to be in perfect order on that first Thursday of 
the term. But Julia, when they went upstairs after 
luncheon, decided that the divan must be moved from 
the windows to the corner opposite the fireplace, and 
Ruth suggested that the library table should go from the 
centre to a recess near the mantle-piece. Chairs ranged 
stiffly against the wall they pulled out into more inviting 
positions, and moved many other things. They both 
agreed that several pictures must be rehung, and Ruth 
began to jump about from mantle-piece to table to make 
the changes. 

“Oh, do be careful! ” cried Julia, as Ruth stepped from 
a chair to the table, with a framed Braun photograph 
under her arm, and a half-dozen picture nails in her hand. 
“Do wait,” she added, “until we can find some one.” 


16 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Wait for whom? We can’t call the chambermaid, and 
Mrs. Colton would be of no more use than — well, than 
you, Julia. Besides, I ’ve hung more pictures than you 
could count; and — why, what’s that?” she concluded, 
as a very loud knocking at the door sounded through the 
rooms. Forgetting the picture under her arm, as she 
turned she let it fall with a crash to the floor. 

“ Gracious ! ” cried Master Percival Colton, astonished 
at the sight of one Radcliffe girl standing on a narrow 
mantle -piece, with another sitting on the floor picking up 
fragments of broken glass. 

“I hope nothing ’s hurt,” said Percival politely, though 
hardly concealing his curiosity as he handed Julia two 
letters. Then he turned away rather sadly, as the girls 
neither explained what had happened nor what they in- 
tended to do about it. 

“Come down, Ruth,” cried Julia, as Percy disappeared. 
“ Clarissa Herter, that Kansas girl, has sent her card with 
these letters that she found on the bulletin board. She 
thought that we might like to have them. Oh, they ’re 
invitations ! ” she added, as she opened her envelope. 

“The Senior, Junior, and Sophomore classes at home in 
the Auditorium, Saturday, September 30. 4 to 6.” 

“Our first college invitation, and from the upper 
classes, too! Well, it ’s evident that they don’t intend to 
haze us.” 

Hardly had Julia and Ruth stepped into the Auditorium 
that Saturday afternoon when a girl with a ribbon badge 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


17 


greeted them warmly. From a table near the door she 
took two slips of paper, and, pinning one on Julia’s dress, 
said pleasantly, “You must excuse my being so uncere- 
monious, but we find that this is the best way of making 
girls acquainted with one another, by giving them slips of 
paper with their names written on them. I honestly think 
that you feel more like talking to a girl if you know 
her name. Your slips are white, but we old girls wear 
blue.” 

“ But how did you know which slips of paper to give 
us?” asked Ruth, as she received a decoration like 
Julia’s. 

“ Oh, I was interested, that is, I asked particularly who 
you were the other day,” replied the older girl in a flatter- 
ing tone. “But now I must find your Senior for you,” 
she concluded; “perhaps you have n’t met her.” 

“My Senior?” asked Julia. “Why, how in the world 
do I happen to have one?” 

“ Excuse me, then, until I find her. She will tell you 
all about it.” 

Soon Julia found herself standing before a tall, plain 
girl with glasses, who wore her Senior’s gown ungrace- 
fully. 

“This is your Senior adviser. Miss Townall, Miss 
Bourne. I am sure that you will like each other;” and 
the vivacious usher, asking Ruth to accompany her, 
turned away to find Ruth’s Senior. 

“Miss Darcy is always bright and cheerful,” said Miss 
Townall, making an effort to talk to Julia. 

2 


18 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“ Yes, indeed, I like her immensely. She ’s a Sopho- 
more, I suppose ? ” 

“Yes, and very popular.” Jane looked at Julia, as if 
at an utter loss for a subject of conversation, until Julia 
asked her to explain the system of assigning Senior 
adviser. In giving information Jane waxed eloquent, 
and explained that the Emmanuel Society made the ar- 
rangements, bringing it about that each Senior should 
take charge of one Freshman, holding herself ready to 
give her any needed advice. 

“Some of them have two,” added Ruth, who had 
rejoined them. 

“Oh, naturally, for there are always more Freshmen 
than Seniors ; but dear me, it ’s bad enough to have one on 
your mind,” said Jane tactlessly. 

“There, I didn’t mean that,” she apologized, at once 
conscious of her own awkwardness. “Of course I’m 
delighted to be of help to any Freshman, but there is so 
much danger of giving the wrong advice, and — ” so Jane 
went on explaining and explaining, as people are apt to 
when once they have made a mistake, without greatly 
improving the state of affairs. 

“But where is your Senior, Ruth?” asked Julia, to put 
Jane more at ease. 

“Oh, I left her talking to that Western girl. She 
seemed so deeply interested in her that I thought I might 
be in the way. We have been introduced, however, and 
if she wishes to speak to me again, she may take the 
trouble to find me.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


19 


Julia wondered if Ruth’s annoyance had come from 
anything said or done by Clarissa. Already she had seen 
that Ruth did not like the Western girl. 

As the rooms began to fill with girls, Julia and Ruth 
recognized many whom they had seen at examination 
time, and among them a number from their own classes. 
Coffee and chocolate and sherbets were served from small 
tables, and the girls who served and the ushers who 
helped them were kept busy. 

“Not sherbet, but college ice,” corrected a girl at one 
of the tables. “You’ll grow heartily sick of it in the 
next four years.” 

Then Clarissa, to whom she spoke, replied, “ Oh, a rose 
by any other name would smell as sweet; and therefore, as 
a Freshman I ’ll ask for another glass. I suppose that our 
class will never again be as important as now. ” 

“Probably never again at Radcliffe, at least until the 
end of your Senior year. We take the Freshmen up 
tenderly, treat them very kindly on the first Saturday of 
the term, and then drop them suddenly. Unless a Fresh- 
man shows unusual ability, we are apt to forget all about 
her.” 

“ Then I ’ll see what I can do to make myself remem- 
bered,” retorted Clarissa, as if accepting a challenge. 

In the meantime Julia and Ruth had again run across 
Miss Darcy, and the latter had inquired if it would be 
an unheard-of thing for her to change her Freshman 
adviser. 

“You can do it, of course. It has been done occasion- 


20 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


ally, but if I were you I ’d wait. So few girls do make 
a change.” 

“I fear that you think me notional.” 

“Oh, no,” responded Miss Darcy. “I feel that you are 
going to be — that is, that you are — the typical Radcliffe 
girl, and that naturally means everything agreeable.” 

“ Yes, indeed, if we may judge by those who are here 
to-day.” 

“ Ah I we are in holiday attire now, but you will like us 
even at our worst.” And Julia and Ruth, looking about 
them, agreed that Radcliffe in holiday attire was well 
worth seeing. The rooms were prettily decorated, and 
most of the girls wore light and becoming colors. There 
was little formality, and each girl was not only at liberty 
to speak to her neighbor, but was sure to be met more 
than halfway. 

Finally, before they separated, the Glee Club girls 
gathered around the grand piano, and one merry song 
after another was sung, to the great delight of the Fresh- 
men. One that made the most impression was “The 
Only Man,” which, although unfamiliar to many of the 
new girls, was already counted a classic of its kind. Even 
Jane Townall had been known to laugh at its merry 
strains. 

The song told of a young man who was invited to a 
Radcliffe tea, who, when he reached Fay House, saw only 
women in sight ; 

“ The poor young man stood trembling there, 

And looked about for aid, 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


21 


He ’d never been afraid before, 

But now he was afraid. 

He gave one long, last lingering look, 

Then rushed out at the door. 

I think that he ’ll think twice before 
He comes here any more-ore-ore. 

“ Now all you Harvard men attend I 
If ever you get a bid 
To a Radcliffe tea, be sure and see 
If any others did. 

Do you think that you could face the fate, 

From which our hero ran. 

Among four hundred Radcliffe girls. 

To be the only man-an-an ? ” 

There were several other stanzas, and as the hero was 
described as a particularly brave athlete, the refrain follow- 
ing each stanza was particularly entertaining, for it went 
somewhat in this fashion: 

“ He could face the Yale rush line, 

He ’d been captain of the nine. 

He was not afraid to dine 
On the new Memorial plan ; 

But he ’d never thought to be. 

At a full-fledged Radclifl^e tea. 

The only — only — only — only — man. ” 


5 


Ill 


THE FIRST “idler” 

“Who’s going to the Idler?” cried Clarissa one morn- 
ing to a group around the bulletin board. 

Then a little Freshman spoke up timidly, “Why, can 
any of us go? I thought that it was a club meeting.” 

“ Oh, the Idler is the only unexclusive institution that 
I’ve struck in this part of the world. Just sign the 
constitution and you ’re in it for life. Come, you must 
join; we must make our class felt.” 

Pressing nearer the board, one of the group read aloud 
that all Radcliffe students, regular or special, were in- 
vited to a meeting of the Idler Club on Friday afternoon 
at half -past four in the Auditorium. 

Accordingly, they were all in their places before the 
appointed hour. The Auditorium was overflowing, and 
some girls even had chairs in the aisles. Ruth and Julia 
leaned on the ledge of the window opening from the con- 
versation room. 

“Why don’t they begin?” asked Ruth impatiently, at 
quarter of five. But even as she spoke there was a lull 
in the conversation, and a rather commanding figure rose 
on the platform. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 23 

“That is the President of the Idler,” whispered Ruth, 
“Mary Witherspoon. I had her pointed out to me the 
other day.” 

Miss Witherspoon made an address that was clear and 
to the point. She congratulated the old students on the 
prospect of a successful year for the Idler; she welcomed 
the new students very heartily, and expressed the hope 
that all present would at the close of the meeting enroll 
themselves on the Idler’s membership list. She alluded 
to the fact that nothing was imposed on them beyond 
signing the club’s very simple constitution and paying 
the small annual dues. 

“I hope, however, that all Radcliffe girls who can do 
anything to entertain us, who are willing to act or sing, 
or even write plays, will speak with me or with some of 
the Idler officers on the subject. We cannot afford to let 
any talent lie hidden ; and if a girl is too modest to let us 
know what she can do, some one else will be sure to tell 
us, and then we shall be obliged to issue some kind of a 
mandamus to compel her to be amusing.” 

All laughed at this, and when quiet was restored Miss 
Witherspoon announced as the entertainment of the 
afternoon a farce written by two Idler members, who for 
the present preferred to be anonymous. Thereupon the 
curtain rose on a pretty stage set for a drawing-room 
scene. In the background were two tall plants and 
a bookcase and a fine water-color on an easel; in the 
foreground a tea-table, daintily spread, and beside it two 
young girls drinking tea, and discussing the advantages 
and disadvantages of a college education. 


24 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


It was clear as the dialogue proceeded why the authors 
wished to be anonymous, for there were many local 
hits, and the applause showed that the audience recog- 
nized the college types depicted. The college partisan 
also created much amusement by describing the homeless 
creature constantly roaming the world in search of 
culture. 

Julia and Ruth, moving about after the play, saw many 
of the ushers of the Freshman reception. Now, as then, 
Elizabeth Darcy was one of the most conspicuous. The 
refreshments served were very simple, — a punch bowl 
filled with lemonade stood on a table in the conversation 
room, surrounded by plates of cakes. 

Ruth was soon seized by some of her own special 
friends, and Julia wandered over toward the Garden 
Street windows. She probably would not have noticed 
the girl sitting in a corner behind the periodical case had 
not a nervous voice exclaimed, “ Oh, I am so glad to see 
you!’’ 

As she recognized Pamela, Julia felt a pang of con- 
science. Absorbed in her own affairs, she had hardly 
remembered the Vermont girl. Now she greeted her 
most cordially, and as Pamela came out of her corner she 
saw that her face as well as her clothes had a dejected 
expression. Her dull-brown hair was brushed back 
tightly, her linen collar was fastened with an old-fash- 
ioned brooch. There was no useless furbelow about her 
non -descript grayish gown, and she wore an expression to 
match her attire. 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


25 


But Pamela brightened as Julia held her hand. “Oh, 
I *m so glad to see you,’’ she repeated; “I have been very 
lonely.” 

“Lonely I with all these girls about you?” and Julia 
glanced toward the girls swarming over the lemonade 
table, and toward the hall where there were still girls, and 
girls, and girls. 

“I’m lonely because there are so many girls here,” 
responded Pamela. “ I know so few, and every one else 
seems to have a special friend.” 

Again J ulia felt that twinge of conscience. She herself 
had not been altogether guiltless. 

“Why, I am your friend, and I ’m going to call on you 
at once, and you must come to see us some Monday soon. 
We are to be at home Mondays after four.” 

This cordial invitation was cordially accepted, but Julia 
noticed that Pamela did not give her own address. 

“ You know every one,” the latter exclaimed, as she and 
Julia walked toward the Auditorium. 

“Well, between us Ruth and I have met most of our 
class. But you ought to know them, too.” 

“ Oh, I never dare speak first to a girl.” 

“But you ought not to feel timid in the presence of 
mere Freshmen, like yourself or myself.” 

“ I never can make up my mind to speak to them. I 
don’t see how I ever dared speak to you.” 

“A drop of ink, don’t you remember? That did it.” 

“Oh, of course it was my duty to apologize.” 

“ Well, then, just spill a glass of lemonade over one or 


26 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


two of those pretty gowns, and you ’ll be justified in 
speaking to the wearers of them.” 

Though Pamela wondered if Julia was quizzing her she 
was not offended. Julia, realizing that Pamela was more 
serious than most Freshmen, thought that she might 
enjoy meeting some of the older and more studious girls. 
Looking around to see whom among them she could in- 
troduce to her, she quickly saw Elizabeth Darcy. But 
Elizabeth was a conscientious usher, and as soon as she 
had attended to the wants of one girl she flew toward 
another. Her eye fell on Julia just when the latter, after 
following her across the room, had half despaired of a 
chance to speak to her. 

“Good afternoon. Miss Bourne,” she said, holding out 
her hand. “Won’t you let me get you something, lem- 
onade or chocolate ? ” 

“Oh, thank you,” responded Julia, “but I wish to ask 
a favor. May I not introduce you to a Freshman who 
has not many friends? She is near the door.” 

Elizabeth glanced toward Pamela, standing in a limp 
and uninteresting attitude. Her quick eye undoubtedly 
noted every detail of clothes that showed unmistakably 
the stamp of the country dressmaker. 

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, as she would have smiled 
under even more trying circumstances. 

“I am ever so sorry, but I am frightfully busy this 
afternoon. Some other time. Miss Bourne, but now I 
could not give a minute to your — your friend; and be- 
sides, I have n’t time for any new girl unless I should 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFPE 27 

liappen to take a rery great fancy to her as I have to 
you.” 

In spite of this touch of flattery, Julia justly felt 
annoyed with Elizabeth. “ After all,” she reflected, 
“ ushers ought to make themselves as agreeable as possible 
to all Freshmen, and it is n’t quite right for one of them 
to decline an introduction.” 

Elizabeth had hastened off with polite excuses, and 
Julia saw her join a group of lively girls at the other side 
of the room. “She is not working very hard now,” she 
thought, moving toward Pamela. She had gone only a 
few steps when a rather shrill voice called her by name. 
Turning, she recognized a bright little Southerner who sat 
near her in English. 

“Where are you bound? You look like you had some- 
thing on your mind,” cried the Southerner, whose name, 
Julia vaguely remembered, was Person. 

“Why, I have a fellow Freshman on my hands; she 
knows hardly any one, and I would like to introduce her, 
and — ” 

“Well, I am at your service if you think that I will fill 
in the blank. You know this is my second year, though my 
first as a Freshman, and I always like to meet new girls.” 

“Why, thank you,” responded Julia, “I should be de- 
lighted. She is in English ‘ A, ’ too, so you will have 
one bond of interest with her.” 

Pamela was still standing where Julia had left her, but 
as the two girls approached she held out her hand with a 
“ Good-bye ” to J ulia. 


28 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“I must go now, it is past five o’clock,” she said. 

“But that is early,” responded Julia. “I wish that 
you could stay longer, for I have brought Miss Porson to 
meet you. She is in our English class.” 

But even after the introduction Pamela would not 
linger. 

“I really must go,” she said nervously. “It is past 
five o’clock.” 

“Why, you speak like Cinderella,” cried Miss Porson 
gaily; “she had to go home at some unheard-of early 
hour — or was it a late hour ? At any rate, nobody ought 
to be a slave to time.” 

The little Southerner with her allusion to Cinderella did 
not know how nearly she hit the truth. But Pamela, 
unduly sensitive, winced at the comparison. After bid- 
ding the two good-bye, she hastened up North Avenue 
toward Miss Batson’s. 

“Isn’t she a little — just a little odd? ” inquired Miss 
Porson, after Pamela had gone away. 

“I cannot say,” responded Julia, “I know her so 
slightly. I ran across her a day or two before college 
opened, and in some way I feel drawn toward her, al- 
though I have seen little of her.” 


IV 


PAMELA’S PEKSEVERANCB 

When Pamela Northcote first found herself in Cam- 
bridge it seemed, as the children say, “too good to be 
true.” It had long been her dream to study some day 
under Harvard professors, but in this world dreams so 
seldom are realized that she was genuinely surprised that 
her dream had come to pass. Yet Pamela herself had been 
her own fairy godmother, and to her own efforts she owed 
her appearance at Radcliffe. 

Pamela had been but a little girl when women first 
began to study at Cambridge. Even then she made up 
her mind that if she could she would sometime be an 
Annex student. The road had been a hard one, but here 
she was. “It’s worth all I’ve been through to come 
here, worth it all.” Yet she sighed, thinking of her diffi- 
culties in getting enough money to warrant her entering 
Radcliffe. 

Pamela had been early left an orphan, and an uncle and 
aunt had given her a home, if not grudgingly, at least not 
always cheerfully. They did what they could for her 
physical comfort, but they would not encourage her in 
her desire to go to college ; and had they been willing to 
encourage her, they could not have helped her. They 


30 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


had no money to spare for superfluous things, and a 
college education — at least for a woman — was certainly 
a superfluity. 

That she should go to college had seemed to Pamela a 
filial duty. Her father, whom she remembered but dimly, 
had worked his way through a small New England college 
and later through the Harvard Divinity School. In a 
trunk of old letters Pamela had found one of her father’s 
written to her mother when Pamela was a baby. “ If our 
boy had lived I should count no sacrifice too great that 
would enable me to send him to college.” A diary of her 
father’s in the same trunk showed Pamela how prayerfully 
he had dedicated his baby boy to the ministry. But the 
boy had lived only a year, and Pamela knew that he felt 
this loss keenly. “ If my father had lived he would have 
wished me to go to college ; he would have had me study 
with him until I was ready. It is my duty to make 
the most of myself, to be as nearly as I can like what 
his son might have been.” So Pamela worked and strug- 
gled to get a little money together for her college educa- 
tion. Although her desire for a Harvard course seemed 
presumptuous, Cambridge was her goal. There was a 
good academy in the town where she lived, and this 
simplified her preparation. In the vacations she taught 
a country school, and she decided that when she had 
three hundred dollars she would venture it all on a year 
at Cambridge, — provided, of course, that she could pass 
the examinations. Now it happened that the very year in 
which she was to be graduated from the academy, a prize 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


31 


was offered by a rich townswoman to be awarded to the 
student, boy or girl, in the Classical Department who 
should pass the best examination. Pamela wore herself 
almost to a shadow studying. She won the prize, a 
scholarship of two hundred dollars, given on the condi- 
tion that the winner should spend the money on a college 
course. Colleges were recommended to Pamela in which 
this sum would have paid almost the whole cost of tuition 
and board, but the young girl would have none of these. 
She saw in the winning of the prize a dispensation that 
she was to attain her long-cherished hope of going to 
Cambridge. She passed most of her entrance examina- 
tions that spring, drawing somewhat on her slender 
capital for the journey to Boston, and in September she 
passed the remainder. On entering Radcliffe, therefore, 
her assets consisted of three honors from the examina- 
tions and three hundred dollars in money. Two-thirds of 
this money was the academy prize and one-third was her 
savings of several years. The brain that she had in- 
herited from her father and the courage that had come to 
her from her mother were not backed by great physical 
strength. She was stronger, however, than she looked, 
and she did not fear her course at Radcliffe. 

Yet Radcliffe does not offer unalloyed bliss even to a 
girl as earnest as Pamela, if she has to cogitate too long 
on the best way of making both ends meet. Out of her 
three hundred dollars Pamela knew that she must spend 
two hundred dollars for tuition, and she wondered how 
she was to make one hundred dollars cover board, lodg- 


o2 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


ings, and incidentals for the year. She made no account 
of clothes, as she did not intend to add to her slender 
wardrobe for another twelve months. Half of her tuition 
would not be due until February, and if worse came to 
worse she thought that she might draw on her tuition 
money for her board of the first half-year. Yet this was 
a resource only if everything else failed. She felt that if 
she could carry herself through the first half-year, some 
way of earning the money to make up the deficit would 
present itself in the second half-year. 

The day before college opened Pamela went to see an 
elderly woman who had been a friend of her mother’s, who 
kept a small millinery shop in one of the northern suburbs 
of Boston. 

“I admire your spirit,” said Mrs. Dorkins when Pamela 
had described her efforts to find a cheap boarding-place. 
“ I knew you ’d have a hard time to find a place you could 
afford; and if you won’t be offended, I ’ll tell you how you 
might be comfortable without its costing you much.” 

“Why should I be offended, Mrs. Dorkins? I know 
that you wouldn’t propose anything that wasn’t right.” 

“Well, a thing may be right without being exactly 
what you ’d like. I can’t forget that your father was my 
minister; and when I remember what a good man he was 
it seems ’s if you ought to have everything you want and 
not humble yourself.” 

“But you haven’t told me, Mrs. .Dorkins, what it is 
that you have in mind.” 

“Well, a cousin of my late husband’s lives in North 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


33 


Cambridge; she takes young women lodgers, who get 
their breakfast with her and their tea. They have dinner 
in the City in the middle of the day, for they are all of 
them employed — bookkeepers, or sales-ladies, or some- 
thing of that kind. There’s only four or five and 
they ’re real nice girls, and steady pay, though they can’t 
afford big prices. Now she wants some one to help her 
with her work — my cousin does. Not a regular servant, 
for she does the cooking and hard work herself. But 
she ’d like some one to set the table and wait on them 
morning and evening a little. She said that if she could 
get some one that didn’t want much pay, she ’d give them 
a good home, and they could have all the day to them- 
selves and most of the evenings. Now Pamela, if you 
was willing to do this you wouldn’t have to pay board 
and — ” 

Pamela’s heart beat violently while Mrs. Dorkins 
talked. This was just the kind of thing she wanted. 
Her subconsciousness immediately set down as wrong 
the feeling of pride which at first threatened to stand in 
the way of her accepting it. 

“Oh, Mrs. Dorkins, you are very kind; that is really 
the kind of thing I have been looking for, only — 
only — ” 

“Yes, I know just how you feel, Pamela, but remember 
what Holy Writ says about pride. Not that I don’t 
think you ’ve a right to feel as you do. Your father was 
a perfect gentleman, though he never had much money, 
and was born at Bearfield where I was born, too.” 

3 


34 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Oh, it really isn’t that, Mrs. Dorkins, it really isn’t 
pride,” and Pamela meant what she said. “ Only — ” 

“Well, then,” said the practical Mrs. Dorkins, “I’ll 
go over to Cambridge to-morrow and take you to Miss 
Batson’s. I ’m sure you ’ll suit, and I hope that you ’ll 
like her. She has a neat little place, and she ’ll treat you 
well.” 

It happened, therefore, that on the very day after the 
opening of college Pamela found herself moving her pos- 
sessions to Miss Batson’s French -roof cottage. She was 
to do certain work in consideration of room and board, 
and she was to have a fair amount of time to herself. 
Miss Batson did not offer her, nor did she desire, any 
money payment for her services. Indeed, she considered 
herself almost rich. She had room and hoard provided 
for her for the year, and after paying her tuition fees of 
two hundred dollars she would have one hundred dollars 
left for books, clothes, and incidentals. This to her 
seemed a very large sum. 

Yet there was one thing that troubled her. She would 
have liked a room to herself, and she found it hard instead 
to regard as a bedroom the sofa-bed in Miss Batson’s little 
plush-trimmed parlor. But in a few days she became 
fairly contented with this arrangement, and toward nine 
o’clock each evening would close the folding-doors so that 
she might go to bed without disturbing Miss Batson’s 
boarders, who often entertained visitors in the little front 
room. 

For her study she had a corner of the dining-room 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


35 


tables and though her work was often interrupted by 
questions and comments from Miss Batson, who would 
look in upon her occasionally, she still reflected that she 
might have been much worse off. Yet sometimes she 
sincerely pitied herself. “It isn’t exactly pleasant to be 
living in a house without a single corner that 1 can call 
my own. I can never invite any one here to see me. For 
although Miss Batson is very kind, I know that she re- 
gards me as ‘ help, ’ a refined species of ‘ help ’ to be sure, 
but still only ‘ help. ’ ” 

She had felt strongly drawn to Julia Bourne, and she 
hoped that she might be able to see much more of her. 
Yet she reddened as she thought of Julia in much the 
same way that she reddened whenever the subject of her 
boarding-place came up. Although she was a minister’s 
daughter, although she realized the sin as well as the 
folly of false pride, she yet felt uncomfortable whenever 
she reflected that to the unprejudiced observer, indeed to 
any one except Mrs. Dorkins, she might seem to be only 
Miss Batson’s “help.” 

Miss Batson’s boarders could not understand her. 
They were young women who earned fairly good pay, as 
expert bookkeepers or clerks. They knew that Pamela 
was a student, and one or two of them were sorry that so 
delicate a looking girl should be obliged both to work and 
to study. 

“It isn’t that the work is so hard,” said the youngest 
of the bookkeepers, “but to think of a little thing like 
her studying those great books. I ’ve noticed her coming 


36 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


in in the evenings, and she ’s always loaded down with 
books. Anybody ’d have to wear glasses if they spent all 
their time looking into books. I wouldn’t do it myself. 
Why, it must be most as hard as school teaching, and I 
always thought that that was dreadful.” Yet Miss Bat- 
son’s young ladies (for in this way did their landlady 
always speak of them) in spite of these occasional criticisms 
were proud to have a college student living in the house. 
They were inclined to be very friendly, and Pamela some- 
times reproached herself for keeping them at a distance. 
Their well-meant familiarities annoyed her, and she found 
it hard to conceal her feeling. In consequence she was 
much lonelier at Miss Batson’s than she need have been. 

It was rather an understanding than an arrangement 
that she should be at home in the afternoon in time to 
help Miss Batson prepare her half-past six tea. This 
meant that Pamela should be at home by half -past five; 
and as she always walked home from the Square, she had 
to leave Fay House by five o’clock. There was really no 
hardship in this, since all recitations were over by half- 
past four. On the other hand, Pamela had decided that 
to do her duty by Miss Batson she ought to refrain from 
any part in the social life of the college, for she had 
learned that nearly all the clubs and receptions were held 
between half -past four o’clock and six. 

It was on this account that she had given up the Fresh- 
man reception. In spite of her Spartan resolve, Pamela 
had just a little longing for the fun that certainly formed 
a legitimate part of college life. Although she had had 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


37 


more than her share of care, although of a more serious 
temperament than many of her classmates, she was still 
girl enough to see the possibility that Radcliffe offered 
for social enjoyment. Yet with this perception came a 
sense of her own lack of adaptability to people; instead 
of attracting them, she felt that she rather repelled those 
whom she met. 


V 


COLLEGE CALLERS 

One afternoon as Julia and Ruth were walking toward 
Elmwood a human whirlwind stormed past them, com- 
posed, as it seemed, chiefly of woollen sweaters and legs 
in knee breeches. 

“ There, said Ruth, “what geese boys can make of 
themselves I Actually, I think that I recognized Philip 
among them.” 

“Yes, I believe he ’s in training.” 

“Well, I’m glad that he has something to do. But I 
wonder that he and Will haven’t called on us.” 

“ Seeing us may remind them. I know that they have 
been intending to call.” 

Julia’s surmise proved correct, and that very evening 
the cards of the two Seniors were brought to them. 
When Julia and Ruth went downstairs to see them, 
Philip said in half apology: 

“ We ’ve often wandered in this direction in our evening 
strolls, but we have never had the courage to come in.” 

“What in the world made you so courageous to- 
night ? ” 

“Well, you see,” said Will, “Philip came back to the 
club after dinner with glowing accounts of you both. He 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 39 

said that he could not see that you had changed a hair 
since coming to Radcliffe.” 

“What in the name of common sense did he expect?” 
Ruth’s voice had a note of indignation. 

“Why, we expected a great alteration. In the first 
place, to be typical Radcliffe girls you ought to wear 
glasses. Then I am sure that you ought to have had a 
huge bundle of books under your arm, and your clothes 
— it gets on my nerves to see the clothes most of the 
Cambridge girls wear; I suppose they are Radcliffe girls. 
But I could see that you looked as up-to-date as Edith.” 

Philip, almost out of breath with the exertion of ex- 
plaining himself, was disconcerted by the laughter that 
greeted his words. 

“It is greatly to be feared,” said Ruth, “that the typi- 
cal Radcliffe girl would be as hard to find as the average 
Harvard student. I haven’t seen either of them yet. 
But it ’s really too funny for you to have expected Julia 
and me to develop our college peculiarities so soon. Give 
us time and we may become typical.” 

“Ah, well, of course now,” said Philip, “I did not 
expect to find you entirely changed, although you know 
yourself that college might make a difference.” 

“ Naturally we ’d rather not belong to the tiresome class 
of persons who are always the same, yet we do not wish 
our friends to find us altered.” 

“No, you were well enough before,” and Will glanced 
toward Ruth. 

“So you thought it best to let well enough alone?” 


40 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Now, really you are severe! But not to dwell on 
personalities — how do you like your rooms here ? They 
seem very domestic.” 

“These are not our special rooms,” explained Julia; 
“our study is upstairs.” 

“ When are we to see your study, or ‘ den, ’ as I suppose 
you will come to call it?” 

“I’m afraid that you would not think it typical enough 
to be called a den.” 

“But when are we to see it?” 

“ Oh, later we ’ll give you a tea, with Aunt Anna or 
Mrs. Blair to chaperon us. You ’ll have a chance then 
to offer any amount of advice.” 

“We ’ll give you points that may be useful next year.” 

“Ah! next year we ’ll be Sophomores, and Sophomores 
know everything,” retorted Julia. 

“Yes, and sometimes more than everything. We did, 
did n’t we, Philip ? ” 

“I should say so! I’ve never since been so wise as I 
was in that Sophomore year. I ’d almost like to be a 
Sophomore again.” 

“You may have the chance,” interposed Will, “if you 
drop down a class at a time. ” 

Philip looked uncomfortable. 

“Be careful, please; no twitting on facts.” 

“ On facts ? ” queried Ruth. “ Is it as bad as that? ” 

“ Oh, the Faculty has a wretched habit of giving a fel- 
low warnings, especially at the beginning of the Senior 
year, just to see how he will take them.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


41 


“Why,” said Julia, “I should take them as warnings.” 

She saw by Philip’s expression that there was more than 
a mere suggestion of truth in what Will had said, and she 
resolved at the first favorable opportunity to have a serious 
talk with him. She remembered that the preceding year 
he had spoken of one or two conditions to be worked off 
before the close of his Senior year, and she began to fear 
that he had neglected to do this. In spite of his little 
affectations, Philip had a charm for J ulia. At least she 
felt a genuine interest in him, partly on his own account, 
and partly because she was so fond of Edith. She hoped 
that he would make more of himself than some of the 
young men in his set had thought it worth while to make 
of themselves. 

While her thoughts were wandering, the conversation 
of the other three went straight on. 

“If we only knew what you would like,” Philip was 
saying, “we might give you something more substantial 
than points for your room. I have a fine ‘ To Let ’ sign 
that was hung out originally somewhere down in the 
‘ Port. ’ I have n’t really room for it, and — ” 

“ Oh, that ’s only black and white. When you make a 
present, you ought not to be mean,” said Will. “What ’s 
the matter with that barber’s pole that you cherish so 
carefully in a corner of your room ? I hear that its former 
owner is still searching for it. A Radcliffe room would 
really be a safer retreat for it than yours.” 

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t get these girls into trouble. If I 
present them with anything it must be something enno- 


42 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


bling, — a tidy, or — or — a picture-scarf, or something of 
that kind.’* 

“We haven’t a tidy in our room,” interposed Ruth 
triumphantly. 

“Then it must have a very unfeminine appearance,” 
responded Philip. “ I am sorry that Radcliffe influences 
are so hardening. It was n’t that way when you helped 
in that Bazaar. Don’t you remember what work I had to 
find something suitable for a college room, and there was 
nothing to be had but tidies, and dolls, and things like 
that? Your minds were all feminine enough then.” 

“I remember that I found just what I wanted,” said 
Will, smiling at Ruth. “A very beautiful sofa pillow, 
with a crimson ‘H’ embroidered upon it.” 

As it was Ruth who had made this pillow for the 
Bazaar given by the Four Club, and as Will had insisted 
on buying it as soon as he learned that it was the work 
of her hands, she naturally looked conscious at this 
reminiscence. 

Thus the conversation of the four young people flowed 
on ; and although the girls tried not to be too serious, they 
really did glean some useful information from the two 
Seniors. The gossip of undergraduates about professors, 
their fancied insight into the methods of their instructors 
is harmless enough. Yet critical listeners might have 
questioned .the correctness of some of the judgments so 
glibly put forth by Philip and Will. 

Philip, to tell the truth, was surprised to find himself 
encouraging the girls in their college career by even these 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 43 

scraps of information. He liked Julia so well that he 
could not reconcile himself to her going to college. 

“It is different,” he had said to her magnificently one 
day at Brenda’s, “it is different, of course, in the case of 
a man. If he does n’t go to college he does n’t amount to 
much. People think it ’s because he can’t get in, and 
that kind of thing. But for a girl, why you know that it 
really hurts her in the opinion of most people if she goes 
to college.” 

Like his sister Edith, Philip was occasionally rather 
tactless, although both had the best intentions in the 
world. 

“ I hope that I won’t be hurt, at least in the opinion of 
my friends, by going to college,” said Julia quietly. 

“Of course not,” rejoined Philip. “I might feel that 
way about some other girl, but not about you.” 

Julia accepted the apology, but she remembered the 
incident. She thought of it again, as she sat before her 
fire that evening, and then her thoughts travelled toward 
Brenda. Brenda, too, had never really approved of 
Julia’s going to college. 

“ It was funny, although not exactly amusing, ” reflected 
Julia, “when she let Belle persuade her that it was an 
affront to the family when I wished to study anything so 
unconventional — for a girl — as Greek. Yet all ’s well 
that ends well, and Brenda is so different now that I can 
hardly believe that it is only two years since she was so 
pettish and inconsiderate.” 

Yet although Brenda had certainly improved in the past 


44 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


two years she was still as far from perfection as most 
young girls of sixteen or seventeen. She was still im- 
pulsive, and disinclined to receive advice. But remem- 
bering her past mistakes, she was less ready than formerly 
to find fault with Julia. 

One thing that had brought the two girls together was 
a common interest in a poor Portuguese family. The 
helpless Rosas living at the North End had appealed very 
strongly to Julia, and for a time she had feared that she 
might not be able to do much for them, because Brenda 
and her three most intimate friends had undertaken to 
make the mother and children their especial protdgds. 
At length Julia’s opportunity had come, and she had not 
only shared in the Bazaar by which “The Four” had 
raised money for Mrs. Rosa, but she had also assisted in 
moving the family from the North End to a healthier 
home in the pretty village of Shiloh. 

Since then the Rosas had apparently prospered, and 
Julia could think of them with satisfaction. Her interest 
in them had a double thread, for besides sympathizing 
with their helplessness, she felt that but for the Rosas, 
and the events connected with their removal to Shiloh, 
she could hardly have had so complete an understanding 
with Brenda. 

Yet in her heart Julia realized that as they grew older 
she and Brenda were likely to see less rather than more of 
each other, their tastes were so very different. Brenda 
had still a year more of school before her, and when that 
was completed she would enter society. For a few years 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


45 


life would be a whirl of pleasure, and she would give 
comparatively little time to serious things. She was 
bound to be a butterfly of fashion, though her father and 
mother would have encouraged her had she wished to 
take life more seriously. On the other hand, they would 
have been glad had Julia, their niece, shown some inter- 
est in other things besides her studies. 

“I do care for other things,” said Julia to herself, as 
she sat before the fire this evening. “ I do care for other 
things, though it is hard to make Aunt Anna and Uncle 
Robert believe that I am not entirely bound up in my 
studies. I really believe that I should enjoy a year of 
society almost as much as Brenda. But the trouble is, I 
might grow to care for it too much. I love study, too, 
and I should be afraid that if I were to put aside my plans 
for college, even for a single year, I might in the end 
regard college work as a task, and wake up too late to 
find society all hollow. No, it is better as it is, although 
Aunt Anna feels that she has failed in her duty to me, 
because she cannot introduce me formally to society.” 

To some girls situated as Julia was, the line of work 
that she had laid out would have been hard to follow; 
for although not a great heiress, she had inherited fortune 
enough to make her perfectly independent. Her purpose 
in going to college was not to fit herself to earn her living. 

“ I should like to feel that I could earn my own living 
if I should ever lose my money. It is not pleasant to feel 
that one is only a consumer, a cumberer of the ground, 
and not a helper.” 


46 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Now Julia had already discovered that not all the girls 
in college were there to carry out the loftiest aims. Some 
were as evidently bent on enjoying themselves as the girls 
of Brenda’s set. Even thus early in her Freshman year 
Julia had noted the difference between the two classes, 
the workers and the shirkers. Of course, in her short 
time at Radcliffe, she had not attempted to put all her 
acquaintances into one or the other of these classes. But 
she had already seen considerable difference in the methods 
of her classmates. Some sat dreamily, even idly, through 
a lecture, making only occasional notes. Others hung 
on the words of their instructor, writing pages and seem- 
ing fearful of losing a word. 

Some took down the names of any books the instructor 
named as useful for further reference. Others seemed 
absolutely indifferent to everything of this kind. 

Julia was not really a severe critic, and she made allow- 
ances. “ I must not forget to tell Brenda that there are, 
at least, two or three girls at Radcliffe who really enjoy 
frivolity. ” 


VI 


SETTING TO WORK 

Pamela never for a moment felt any lack of liberty in 
Cambridge, in spite of the fact that she had less of real 
leisure than most of her classmates. Her life at Radcliffe 
was so much nearer her ideal than anything she had 
previously known that she was in a state of constant 
thankfulness. Clarissa, on the contrary, found the very 
atmosphere of the college restraining. 

So few were the rules at Radcliffe that Clarissa had a 
breezy way of forgetting that any existed. She disre- 
garded, for example, the notice in the catalogue that 
students could board only in houses approved by the 
Dean. She was therefore surprised when the request 
came that she should call at the office to explain why she 
had chosen a house where several Harvard men were 
boarding. 

“What funny ideas they have here in Cambridge,” she 
had said when describing the interview. “ Why, Archibald 
is my third cousin, and we grew up together. My mother 
and father would just as soon have him in the same house. 
They ’d know that he would look after me. He ’s horribly 
serious. I wonder if the powers that be here in Cam- 
bridge ever heard of co-education?” 


48 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“ Oh, the rule is intended for the greatest good of the 
greatest number,” replied Julia, to whom she had told her 
tale of woe. “With fascinating youths in every house 
where RadclifPe girls board, think of the hours that might 
be wasted in matching wits! ” 

“ Fascinating ! ” responded Clarissa disdainfully ; “ there ’s 
little chance that I would waste time over them. Of 
course Archibald offered to move, but there were two 
other Freshman youths in the house, and so I had to go. 
My present abode is most domestic with ‘ Home, sweet 
home ’ worked in worsted on the walls, and a plush- 
covered album and two Radcliffe students as the chief 
adornments of the parlor. That ought to suit you, Julia 
— oh, I beg your pardon. Miss Bourne.” 

“Why not Julia?” 

“ Oh, I notice that people here are so afraid to call one 
another by their first names. For my part, I always think of 
the Christian name first. It has so much more character.” 

“ So few people call me ‘ Julia ’ that I am always 
pleased to add a new friend to the list.” 

“Well, then, since you are so very kind,” responded 
Clarissa, smiling, “perhaps you’ll let me give you some 
suggestions about the approaching mid-years. I believe 
that I am on the high road to success.” 

“Then do tell us,” cried Ruth, who had just entered 
the room. 

“Well, 1 show a frantic interest in all the reference 
books mentioned, and I ’ve even bought one or two of 
them. I also make a special note of any witticism — 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


49 


alleged witticism — of my instructor. Then I ’m building 
up a scholarly reputation by adorning my room with books 
and plaster casts. When I have a brass tea-kettle I shall 
be ready for company. But it will be tiresome to keep 
that tea-kettle polished.” 

“It’s less trouble than you might think,” said Julia, 
laughing. “That’s the advantage of owning a room- 
mate.” 

“Well, you are an angel. Miss Roberts, do you do all 
the polishing in this establishment?” 

“Ah! it wouldn’t be becoming to disclose how much 
work I do.” 

“Oh, well,” said Clarissa, “it’s a fair division of labor 
after all for you to do the rubbing and scrubbing, while 
Julia does the aesthetic and ornamental for the two.” 

Ruth colored at this remark, and Julia looked up in 
surprise at the careless Clarissa. But the Western girl, 
unconscious of offence, was looking at the photographs on 
the mantle-piece. 

Before Clarissa turned around, Ruth, gathering up her 
books, had left the room. 

“ Why did she leave us ? ” asked Clarissa, discovering 
her absence. 

“Oh, she often studies in her own room. Only on 
Monday afternoon does she feel perfectly free.” 

“I see,” responded Clarissa, “I am a little in the way 
to-day.” 

“ Not as far as I am concerned, ” responded J ulia. “ I ’ ve 
been studying and I am glad to have a little rest.” 

4 


50 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


“A little intellectual rest,” responded Clarissa, “as the 
Bostonian says when he goes to New York. Well, I 
ought to come on Mondays, only there ’s always some one 
else here.” 

Julia was accustomed to Clarissa’s badinage, but Ruth 
unfortunately did not like Clarissa as well. Julia there- 
fore regretted her ill-considered remark. 

Clarissa spent much time bewailing the fact that she 
had to be a Freshman at Radcliffe when she had already 
spent a year in a Western university. 

“Pa promised me,” she said, “eight hundred dollars a 
year for three years, and I suppose that I ought to save 
out of that for my fourth year. I never imagined that I 
should have to spend four years at Radcliffe ; it ’s just 
ridiculous to have to begin all over again. However, 
what can’t be cured must be endured. But Pa will 
always think it was my fault -in some way that I didn’t 
get admitted a Sophomore.” 

“ But you ’ve made it clear to him? ” 

“ Oh, yes; but it ’s hard to make any one not on the spot 
understand just how things are. I might get through in 
three years, just as some of the boys do, but I can’t make 
up my mind to grind. There are so many interesting 
things to see and do in Boston. I really can’t pin myself 
down to hard study. In the first place, I can’t get used 
to the methods. It seems as if there is nothing to do but 
listen to lectures and take notes. I ’m only beginning to 
understand how to take notes.” 

“It’s a science in itself,” said Julia. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


51 


“1 should say so,” continued Clarissa. “I shouldn’t 
like to have any one see what a hodge-podge I made of my 
note-books the first three or four weeks. I could n’t make 
head nor tail of them until I had borrowed the notes of 
one of the model girls to interpret them by.” 

“It was hard for all of us,” said Julia, “at least it was 
for me.” 

“Well, our first hour examination showed that we must 
remember the instructor’s words, that it wasn’t enough 
to imbed them in hieroglyphics. Allusions that I had 
considered mere ornaments I soon found ought to have 
been taken seriously. Little innocent references to some 
reserved book were of more importance than hours of 
lectures. Alas ! alas ! ” 

Julia smiled at her expression of sorrow. 

“ You need not laugh,” said Clarissa. “I had meant to 
do most of my reading next summer, and I had not even 
taken the trouble to note the names of the books referred 
to. But I find that having electives does not mean that 
you can elect to study or not, just as you please. The 
mid-years will be serious enough, judging by the samples 
we have had.” 

Clarissa was not the only Freshman to find difficulty in 
accustoming herself to RadclifTe methods. Many others, 
unused to the lecture system, had rested too securely in 
the hope that before the mid-years they could make up all 
deficiencies. As the college year went on they were 
bound to find, like all preceding Freshmen, that lectures 
in the end were far more stimulating than recitations 


52 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


from even the best of text-books, and in the course of 
time, too, even the dullest was likely to acquire the art of 
successful note-taking. 

The hour examinations at irregular intervals before 
Christmas were often rude awakeners for careless girls. 
Others were agreeably surprised to find their marks better 
than they had hoped. 

“It’s uncertainty that kills one,” said Clarissa. “I 
mean to work so that my mid-years will give me ‘ B,’ 
or at any rate ‘ C ’ in English. The warning, you will 
see, shall not have been in vain. I used to think that 
I knew something about Rhetoric, but it seems that 
I was wrong, though I studied it years ago in the High 
School.” 

Although Clarissa’s rather original manner of expressing 
herself did not wholly meet the approval of her English 
instructor, since the first examination he had expressed a 
certain restrained approval of some of her written work. 

In November even the shyest Freshmen had begun to 
find their place at Radcliffe, and to feel that they had 
some individuality. The classes, relatively small com- 
pared with Harvard, enabled the members of each class to 
know one another by sight and name, even if the acquaint- 
ance went no further. But the new girls were impressed 
by the fact that intimacies in no way followed class lines. 
The elective system made it possible in many courses for 
Freshmen and Seniors to sit side by side, nor did a 
Senior lose dignity by associating with the lower classes. 
Clarissa constantly commented on this evidence of a spirit 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


53 


SO different from that to which she had been accustomed 
at her Western college. 

Pamela accepted everything at Cambridge as a matter 
of course. Nothing seemed strange to her because she 
had expected everything to be strange. Whatever was, 
was right for Pamela, so far as Radcliffe and Cambridge 
were concerned, and she lacked Clarissa’s bubbling energy, 
which constantly sought some object to reform. 

“ I can’t say that I disapprove of the present state of 
things, though I really cannot understand it. Here we 
are in the same town with hundreds — yes, thousands — of 
students, and yet we see few of them at close range, and 
then those we know are only our brothers or cousins or 
something of that kind.” 

“ ‘ Something of that kind ’ is delightfully indefinite, ” 
said Polly Porson, the little Georgian whose condescension 
at a reception had won Julia’s gratitude at the beginning 
of the term. “ You speak like you were disappointed,” con- 
tinued Miss Porson, “but if you stop to think, it’s well 
that we have so little to distract us. We are not forbidden 
to cross the college yard if we really wish to. But only 
think what a nuisance if they were permitted to walk 
about our little campus!” 

“Do you suppose that there is any rule against it?” 
asked Clarissa mischievously. 

Polly laughed in reply. “Well, the average under- 
graduate would almost rather be suspended for three 
months than find himself within our grounds. Some of 
them make a virtue of not knowing just where Fay House 


54 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


is, and you ’d be surprised to find that many explain with 
pride that they ’ve never met a Radcliffe girl.” 

“We must change all that,” cried Clarissa. “Not that 
we are anxious to have the acquaintance of those callow 
youths, — for they must be callow to look at us in that tone 
of voice, — but we must do something or have something 
here that will make them anxious to know us better.” 

“We can get along very well without their society,” 
interposed Elspeth Gray, who happened to be passing 
through the conversation room where Clarissa and 
Polly and one or two others were talking. “We’re not 
exactly cloistered here in Cambridge, as girls are at some 
colleges. Most of us have the society, more or less, of real 
men, and we do not depend on undergraduates. ” 

“All the same,” said Clarissa, “we might have a little 
more fun here. Now, Polly Porson, you must admit 
that it’s a trifle slow here for a college town.” 

“ Most of us were not looking for fun when we under- 
took to come to Radcliffe. Cambridge never had the 
reputation of being very amusing. But I ’ll tell you 
something to raise your spirits. Rumors of the charm 
and wit of the Idler theatricals have begun to penetrate 
the brick walls of Harvard, and last year we heard of 
sorrow in college halls because men were not admitted to 
the performances. What we could n’t attain through our 
work we have accomplished by our play. They wouldn’t 
lift their hands to read one of our examination books, 
but they would give more than the admission fee to see 
us act.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


55 


“ Are n’t they permitted to come ? ” 

“No, indeed, although we really ought to find some way 
of letting them reciprocate our interest in the yearly 
Pudding theatricals.” 

“We ought to be able to get up something to interest 
them,” said Clarissa. 

“Can you act?” asked Polly abruptly. 

“ Why, yes, after a fashion,” responded Clarissa. 

“Well, then, do give your name to Miss Witherspoon. 
It isn’t the easiest thing in the world to find girls willing 
to do their part. But there! you must have heard the 
invitation given at the first meeting.” 

“I heard it without taking it to myself. I’m not the 
person of talent for whom the Idler is looking.” 

Whatever her other faults, Clarissa could not be accused 
of vanity. 


VII 


ALL KINDS OF GIRLS 

Among the girls in her Latin course one had a particu- 
lar charm for Julia. She was tall, slight, and graceful, 
with waving brown hair. Lois lived in Newton, and 
often for exercise she walked at least as far as Watertown 
after lectures. Sometimes Julia walked with her; and 
although Lois was not too confidential, Julia had gradually 
learned many things about her. She knew that Lois 
made her own clothes, and that home duties prevented 
her spending much time in Fay House frivolities. 

So far as she could, Lois had elected studies that would 
count toward her proposed medical course. She was 
bright and cheerful, and always ready to help others. 

“She is certainly very clever,” Ruth had said apprecia- 
tively one day after Lois had given her a suggestion as to 
the proper translation of a very difficult passage. Julia 
was glad that Ruth liked Lois so well, for she had not 
smiled on her friendship with Clarissa and Pamela. 

Polly Porson liked Lois, too, although she was in the 
habit of saying that her energy tired her. 

“You look as fresh as a rose!” she exclaimed one 
morning, as Lois, with cheeks pink from exercise, came 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 57 

into one of the smaller recitation rooms where two or 
three girls were studying together. 

“Well, I ought to have a color,’’ said Lois. “I’ve 
walked over from Newton.” 

“Why, Lois Forsaith,” cried Polly, and “Lois For- 
saith!” echoed Ruth. “Why in the world do you walk 
on a day like this ? ” 

“ This is just the kind of day for a walk. I had to stay 
indoors yesterday because my mother was ill, and on 
Sundays there is so much to attend to. I hadn’t time 
even to go to church. But the walk to-day has set me up 
again, and I feel equal to anything.” 

“Walking is as bad as the gym.,” cried Polly Porson; 
“in the South we wouldn’t think either exactly ladylike. 
Why, until I came North I ’d never walked a mile, really 
I never had, just for the sake of walking, I mean.” 

“That’s nothing to be proud of,” commented Ruth. 
“ Besides, I ’d like to see any one try to walk on your 
Georgia roads — those red clay roads. I was in Atlanta 
once, and I know them. We were there two days on our 
way from Florida, and the roads were so bad that I won- 
dered that feet in Georgia hadn’t become rudimentary 
from disuse.” 

“Now, it isn’t so bad as that,” said Polly. 

“ Bad ! ” repeated Ruth. “ Why, we started to drive one 
afternoon and our wheels sank deep into red clay until we 
were nearly buried alive.” 

“Now, it isn’t so bad as that everywhere,” reiterated 
Polly. “You ought to have gone out Peach Tree 


58 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Street; that’s a right good road, with a fine sidewalk, 
too.” 

“Oh, I’ve seen Peach Tree Street, too, and I’ll admit 
that there ’s no excuse for your not walking there.” 

Polly sank back in her chair. “ I never could see the 
sense in walking where a horse could carry you. ” 

“Or even an ox cart,” added Ruth mischievously; 
“ that seemed to be the favorite Atlanta vehicle. ” 

“I wonder that you stand her teasing,” said Lois; “you 
are more amiable than I should be.” 

“Well,” responded Polly, “this is my second year at 
Cambridge, and if I would I could tell a tale of Cam- 
bridge mud that would make Atlanta shine in contrast.” 

“Yes, Atlanta mud is red,” murmured Ruth. But 
Polly took no notice of the interruption, and the conver- 
sation drifted from Atlanta and Cambridge mud to a more 
general putting forth of opinions of New England weather, 
a never-failing topic when two or more persons from out- 
side New England are gathered together. 

“Give me the bleak New England climate before any 
other,” cried Lois. “I have n’t travelled, but I have seen 
the products of the other climates, and ours has the 
greater staying power every time.” 

“You’re right smart cruel,” cried Polly; “I will never 
lend you my note-books again.” Whereat all the others 
laughed, for it was Polly and not Lois who was ever the 
borrower. The note-books of Lois were models of con- 
ciseness and neatness, and she was ever ready to lend 
them to those girls who needed, or thought that they 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


59 


needed, assistance. The borrowers were not always shift- 
less. Some were simply careless girls, who found it easier 
to sit idle during a lecture than to write. Some, indeed, 
had difficulty in following the lecturer and filling their 
note-books at the same time. To such girls the loan of a 
note-book like that of Lois was a great boon. They could 
copy her work in a time that was short compared with 
what would have been necessary to decipher, expand, and 
rewrite their own half-intelligible notes. 

As for Lois herself, she often found it hard to lend the 
note-book which she liked to have by her side when pre- 
paring for the class-room. It was equally hard to refuse 
when a girl asked the favor in particularly beseeching tones. 
On reflection, however, it seemed selfish to Lois generally to 
refuse merely because she might wish to refer to the book, 
and it happened that her note-books for one or two of 
the courses were travelling half the time. While Polly 
Porson was one of the most persistent of the borrowers, 
Lois never refused her requests. She was fond of Polly, 
although it would be hard to imagine two girls more 
unlike than the ease-loving little Southerner and the 
self-restrained Massachusetts girl. The two were, never- 
theless, the best of friends, though Lois was a girl who 
had few intimates. For one thing she was too busy, and 
for another she had little inclination to spend all her 
spare time talking or walking with other girls. 

Even on this brisk, cool morning, although she had no 
lecture for half an hour, Lois did not sit down with Ruth 
and Polly and the others. She lingered scarcely five 


60 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


minutes, and almost before they had missed her she was 
up in the library, with books and writing material before 
her, ready for a half-hour’s work. 

“Why, where ’s Lois?” cried Polly, suddenly discover- 
ing her absence. 

“ Hard at work somewhere, I ’ll warrant you. She 
never wastes a minute,” replied one of the group. 

“ As if it would be a waste of minutes to stay here and 
talk with us! I’m sure we have just finished a most 
enlightening discussion of the difference between Southern 
and Northern mud. We might have progressed to a dis- 
cussion of the difference in Fauna, Flora, and other natural 
features of the two regions.” 

“You forget that / am here,” retorted Ruth; “it was I 
with whom you were chiefly carrying on the discussion. If 
the others permit it and you still wish it, we can continue.” 

“Oh, no, indeed,” answered Polly, “I assure you that 
I do not wish it. You can see that I bear no malice, 
for I had forgotten that it was you who had said all those 
dreadful things about my native State.” 

“Could contempt go further?” sighed Ruth. “You 
would have been willing to prolong the discussion with 
Miss Forsaith, but you think it isn’t worth while with 
me.” 

“Speaking of Lois,” responded Polly, “I wish that she 
would amuse herself more. It ’s only frivolous persons 
like me who can sing and act and study, too.” 

“Oh, but Lois can act splendidly, if she only m7/,” 
said one of the Sophomore by-standers. “I do wish that 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 61 

she could be induced to help us with the Emmanuel play 
this spring.” 

“The trouble is,” said a deep voice, “ that Radcliffe 
girls are too indifferent to fame.” 

The other girls looked up and saw Clarissa slipping 
into a seat beside the table. 

“ It seems ridiculous that there should be such trouble 
to get girls for the theatricals.” 

“Perhaps many would not think it fame, even if they 
should distinguish themselves on our Auditorium stage.” 

“Then they look at things with a jaundiced eye. 
Already there are traditions — I have heard them myself 
— about girls who have acted in our college plays,” said 
Clarissa, “ and the greatest were the girls who made up 
best in men’s parts.” 

“There, Polly,” cried the Sophomore, “you must be on 
the high road to glory, for,” turning to Clarissa, “you 
have probably heard that she is our very best man. Last 
year she just brought down the house. You really ought 
to see her; she ’s immense.” 

“That’s more than you are most of the time,” and 
Clarissa turned to Polly. “What do you wear, seven 
league boots, or something of that kind?” 

“Not exactly,” replied Polly, “though if you’ll come 
round to my room sometime I ’ll show you some of my 
properties.” 

“They’d be worth seeing,” said the Sophomore, “espe- 
cially if you ’ve kept that gold-laced coat, Polly, and the 
high boots.” 


62 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“’Deed I have,” replied Polly; “the boots are likely to 
be in more than one play before summer. I ’m promised 
for at least two.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” cried Clarissa. “You are the 
very kind of girl to act well. I ’ve overheard you taking 
people off once or twice in the conversation room, and 
you hit them to the life.” 

Polly reddened a trifle at Clarissa’s words. It flashed 
through her mind that she had sometimes mimicked 
Clarissa, and she hoped that this was not what the 
Western girl had overheard. 

There was no trace of resentment in Clarissa’s face, 
though Polly made a mental note that after this she would 
not entertain her friends with her impersonations outside 
of her own room. 

It was time, indeed, for Polly to make this resolve, for 
without intending it she had gained the ill-will of several 
by using her powers of mimicry too freely. “ Ill-will ” 
is perhaps too strong a word, although it takes more than 
the average amount of philosophy to make a girl proof 
against ridicule. Comparatively few persons really care 
to see themselves as others see them, and annoyance, if 
nothing stronger, is apt to be felt against the individual, 
whether friend or foe, who attempts to portray us as we 
appear to those about us. 

It was now late in December, and the greater number 
of Freshmen had become known to the girls in the upper 
classes. Here and there was one who, like Pamela, had 
little to ^y to her fellow-students, and had as little to do 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


63 


with those in her own class as with those above her. The 
majority, perhaps, were like Julia and Ruth, friendly 
toward all with whom they came in touch, yet never for- 
getful of the fact that they were at Radcliffe first of all to 
study, and that other things must be secondary. 

Clarissa was in many ways unusual. She seemed 
always ready for pleasure, and she spent so much time 
exploring the historic streets and buildings of Boston that 
her friends wondered how she contrived to keep up with 
her college work. Nevertheless, although there was no 
ranking in the classes at Radcliffe, and although there 
were no recitations to give a girl a chance to distinguish 
herself, Clarissa made it perfectly evident that she did 
not neglect her work. She asked intelligent questions in 
the class-room, and it was rumored that her marks in the 
hour examinations had been particularly good. These 
hour examijiations, held occasionally without much warn- 
ing, were tests covering a limited ground. They gave a 
girl a chance to recover herself, if she found that she had not 
been thorough in her subject, before the severe mid-years. 

Some girls did not care for Clarissa. They thought 
her too pushing ; and although partly right in this, they 
would have been more correct had they said that she 
was merely no respecter of persons. If she wished to 
speak to a girl she addressed her without hesitation, re- 
gardless of the fact that she had not been introduced. 
Strange though it may seem, some girls objected to this, 
preferring, as they said, “to choose their acquaintances.” 
Not many, however, were so foolishly formal, and Clarissa’s 


64 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLlFFE 


chief fault consisted in a certain harmless officiousness, a 
readiness to do things which really were within the prov- 
ince of some other girl. She had promptly joined the 
Emmanuel Society, for example, and had been a member 
hardly a month when she told the President of Emmanuel 
that she had invited Mrs. Skillington S quails, of Chicago, to 
speak before the Society on her approaching visit to Boston. 

Now it happened that both meetings of the Society that 
were to be held during Mrs. Squails’ visit had been already 
provided with speakers whom it was impossible to put 
aside. Moreover, it was decidedly out of place for a new 
member like Clarissa to make a suggestion of this kind. 
There was an executive committee of the Society whose 
duty it was to make all arrangements regarding speakers, 
and Clarissa ought at least to have consulted this committee 
before writing to Mrs. Squails. 

“I’m awfully sorry,” she said when the matter was 
explained to her. “But it seemed to be such a good 
chance to get Mrs. Squails, that I thought that I ought 
to secure her as soon as I heard that she was coming East. 
You know that she ’s in great demand, and she never gets 
less than fifty dollars a lecture. But she knows me very 
well; she stayed at our house a week the last time she 
came down into our State, and she would have spoken 
before our Society for nothing to oblige me, and she ’d 
consider it an honor to speak at Radcliffe.” 

Mrs. Skillington Squails was an effective speaker, and 
her subject, “The Organization of Women Workers,” 
might have come within the scope of the Emmanuel pro- 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIEEE 


65 


grammes. But unfortunately, Mrs. Squalls had recently 
been speaking on the stump for a very unpopular political 
party, and to invite her to address Radcliffe girls would 
have drawn considerable adverse criticism on the college. 

The President of the Society thought it fortunate that 
the other speakers could not be put aside for the Chicagoan, 
and in the end Clarissa was spared the embarrassment of 
having to explain that her invitation was not official by 
hearing from the latter that for the time being she had 
given up her visit to Boston. Although the President of 
the Emmanuel and her committee had been very careful not 
to speak of this officiousness of Clarissa’s, in some way, 
possibly through Clarissa herself, the story had leaked 
out, and nearly every one who had not met her asked to 
have her pointed out. They were all anxious to see the 
audacious Western Freshman. 

Polly Porson, when she heard the story, had entertained 
a group of girls with a mock interview between Clarissa 
and Ernestine D unton, the very serious and conscientious 
President of the Emmanuel. She remembered that this 
portrayal had taken place late one afternoon in the con- 
versation room; and although she had glanced out into the 
hall to make sure that there were no listeners besides 
those whom she had undertaken to entertain, there was 
the possibility that Clarissa might have passed through 
the hall unobserved. The thought of such a possibility 
made the careless Polly rather uncomfortable, and in con- 
sequence she was now especially cordial to Clarissa. 


5 


VIII 


THE MID-YEAES 

“It’s comical, isn’t it, to see those woe-begone faces 
erstwhile so gay and cheerful?” said Clarissa, meeting 
Julia one morning in January at the foot of the main 
stairs of Fay House. “ Let us stand here and watch the 
martyrs pass.” 

“Laughing at your fellow sufferers! ” responded Julia; 
“surely you are not out of misery yourself.” 

“No, indeed, I have two more; but I ’d rather die with 
my boots on, as the miners say, than be killed by inches. 
Now just look there ! ” 

As Clarissa spoke two girls approached, one stumbling 
along with her eyes fixed on a book, the other wearing 
dark green glasses that made her pale face look almost 
ghostly. 

“You can’t pass without speaking!” Clarissa’s voice 
compelled attention, and the girl with the book looked up, 
showing the usually bright face of Elspeth Gray, while 
the girl in glasses responded in the accents of Polly 
Porson. 

“I’m nearly dead, I really am, with one examination 
to-day and another to-morrow ! I had a perfectly lovely 
time the first week, for not one of my mid-years came 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


67 


early. I went to two matindes and a Symphony Concert, 
had a girl from New York over to spend the week with 
me; but the next week when I began to study I found 
I ’d lost the taste for cramming, and I ’ve sat up nights 
since. It was three a.m. when I went to bed last night, 
or this morning — which was it ? — and my eyes are nearly 
wrecked.” 

Polly from a seat on the stairs looked up at Clarissa, 
who was standing in front of her. 

“I ’m glad that I can’t see very well,” she continued. 
“ I should hate to discover that you were laughing at me, 
Clarissa.” 

“Well, I do think that you are very silly.” Clarissa 
drew herself up. “ Look at me ! I ’ve gained two pounds 
since the first of January.” 

“Why! haven’t you had to work? You are an excep- 
tion, and this is only your first year, too.” 

“Certainly I have been working,” responded Clarissa, 
“but I have n’t been worrying. There ’s little difference 
to me 'twixt ‘ A ’ and ‘ B ’ and ‘ C ’ and ‘ D. ’” 

“Very well,” said a Junior, overhearing, “we shall see. 
I felt that way myself when I was a Freshman. But a 
change came over the spirit of my dream when I received 
my marks. I ’d always thought myself a pretty bright 
person before that, but when I found that I had nothing 
higher than a ‘ B, ’ and that in only one course, while 
‘ C’s ’ were alarmingly prevalent on my record, I made 
up my mind after that to take examinations seriously. 
I did better in June — 1 really did.” 


68 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Yes, indeed,” interposed Polly. “I mean to do better 
in June myself.” 

“According to your own account, you did not plan 
well for these mid-years. Wouldn’t it have been better 
to have spent an hour or two earlier in the year in study 
instead of cramming it into a week? Would n’t that have 
been more consistent?” asked Julia. 

“It might have been more consistent,” responded Polly, 
“but it wouldn’t have been half as pleasant. I never did 
believe that consistency was a diamond of the first water. 
Besides, it’s much more exciting to leave most of your 
work to the last. If I were running a race I ’d always 
make my greatest effort on the last round. To be sure, 
I ’d feel a little better now if my eyes were n’t so trouble- 
some. But I must go on. Elspeth and I have some 
German to attack — just a trifle, you know : ‘ Minna von 
Barnhelm,’ ‘ Wilhelm Tell,’ ‘ Iphigenia, ’ and one or two 
other little things of that kind,” and she made a gesture 
of affected carelessness. “Well, good-bye! Elspeth fur- 
nishes eyes for me at present, and looks up all the words 
in the dictionary, while I provide the free translations. 
Free enough,” she concluded with a laugh, as she disap- 
peared up the stairs. 

“There,” cried Clarissa, “I can see that Polly is 
worried. She ’s been summoned to the office once or 
twice for cutting, I hear. She told of it herself,” she 
added, lest Julia should wonder how Clarissa had learned 
this. 

Many Radcliffe girls, undoubtedly, took their examina- 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


69 


tions too severely. They withdrew to their rooms at the 
beginning of the mid-years, and came out only to get books 
from the library or for examinations. Yet though cram- 
ming is a bad habit, it is so firmly fixed on all students 
that until examinations themselves are abolished it will 
last. Poor students, who have wasted the lecture hours 
and neglected the prescribed reading, cram because other- 
wise they might fail outright, and so bring their college 
course to an untimely end. Good students, who have 
neglected nothing through the term, cram to assure them- 
selves that they have done the very best by their chosen 
subjects. Between the men and the women students of 
Cambridge, however, there is one marked point of differ- 
ence. With the growth of Harvard the profession of 
tutor is of increasing importance. Young men of small 
money and large ability after their Freshman year often 
defray the greater part of their expenses by tutoring. 
Many, indeed, of the youths who seek the aid of tutors 
have never even tried to keep up with the regular lec- 
tures. By some occult reasoning they calculate that it 
requires less mental effort to wait until the approach of 
the examinations for their great spurt. The gist of the 
courses they desire is then given them by an expert who 
in a few hours covers the work of the half-year. Lazy 
men, athletic men, and men lacking the mental momentum 
to carry them through college are the mainstay of num- 
bers of impecunious students. Radcliffe as yet has had 
no attractions for girls disinclined to study. The majority 
have had high standing in the preparatory schools, and 


70 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


they go to college intending to do their best. If the Polly 
Poisons have been inattentive to some lectures, or if they 
have neglected part of their reading, they work with a 
will in the weeks just before examinations. But they 
scorn the help of tutors, or of printed notes. At the 
worst they borrow the note-books of some other girl, or 
they meet in little groups of two or three to put one 
another to the test with difficult questions. Informal 
meetings of this kind are the nearest thing that Radcliffe 
can show to the Seminars (disapproved by the Fac- 
ulty), devised for the smoothing of the way for Harvard 
students. 

Clarissa was one of those who liked to study in com- 
pany. 

“ I am twice as sure of myself when I have done a little 
thinking aloud. Come on, Polly, one more hour will 
make us perfect in English. I need you to hear me say 
the ‘ Canons, ’ and exercise me a little on ‘ shall ’ and 
‘ will,’ and then I shall learn whole pages of the English 
Literature Primer. It ’s too bad that we have n’t had 
more courses together, for we work together splendidly ; 
don’t you think so?” 

“Yes,” said Polly, “ especially as you have eyes and I 
haven’t. I am going to make up questions out of my 
head to test you, for I mustn’t look much on my 
book.” 

“ Oh, that will be all right, ” responded Clarissa. “ Be- 
sides, I have some examination papers — those of the past 
two or three years — and I am going to use them for your 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


71 


especial torment. It will strengthen your mind to answer 
the questions.” 

“ Thank you, but if my mind required strengthening I 
don’t believe that cramming would help. A cup of good 
strong coffee would be more to the point.” 

“There,” cried Clarissa, “you’ve given yourself away. 
I have been wondering how you kept yourself awake until 
three A.M. as you boast of doing. If coffee does it I 
have only half as much respect for you as I thought I had. 
If I could look in upon you some midnight soon, and find 
you drinking strong coffee, with your head swathed in 
wet towels — for this I am told is the habit with coffee- 
bibbers — I ’d punish you as you deserve.” 

“I plead guilty,” cried Polly, “to the coffee drinking. 
Why not, since I have a little gas-stove of my own? 
But the wet towels, ugh ! I could not stand anything so 
clammy. But come ! time flies, and if you are in earnest 
about that symposium, let us hasten to my rooms.” 

Many girls studied wholly by themselves. Pamela was 
one of these, and Lois another. Pamela in this, as in 
other things, was solitary from necessity rather than from 
choice. She had hardly a speaking acquaintance with 
most of the girls in her classes, and it occurred to none 
of them to ask her to join them. She for her part was 
too timid to make the first advances. Lois, on the other 
hand, would have been welcomed by many a little study 
group. But she was of a decidedly independent disposi- 
tion, and she felt that she could accomplish more by 
herself, and with a smaller expenditure of time. 


72 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Her disinclination to be one of a crowd stood in the way 
of Lois’ popularity. Her fellow-students admitted that 
she was bright and amiable, and that she seldom said 
sarcastic things. But they felt that she was not deeply 
interested in them as individuals, and in consequence they 
were inclined to criticise her. It was harmless criticism, 
but it tended to increase the feeling that Lois was not 
exactly popular. 

Julia and Ruth, studying together, rejoiced that they 
had the same electives. Ruth was unduly flurried and 
worried, and she and Julia sat up until midnight many 
nights when they might better have been in bed. 

“The worst of it is,” sighed Ruth, after her last exami- 
nation, “my cramming hasn’t helped me an atom. Not 
one of the four papers had a question that I could not 
have answered before I began to cram.” 

“Yes, and if you hadn’t sat up so late grinding you 
would probably have been in a better state for work. 
You ’ll take things more sensibly in your Sophomore and 
Junior years. Only Freshmen and Seniors work them- 
selves into a fever. Freshmen are inexperienced and 
nervous, and Seniors never feel quite sure that they are 
going to pass in everything; but Sophomores and — ” 

“I can’t say that I agree with you. Miss Darcy,” said 
Jane Townall. “I ’ve always tried to do my duty by all 
my instructors, but I never went into an examination, 
even in my Sophomore and Junior years, without an enor- 
mous amount of preparation. It seems to me that most 
girls do the same.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


73 


“ Oh, ” responded Elizabeth carelessly, “it all depends 
on the kind of girls one knows. Your friends, of course, 
are more serious than mine. But you all make a mistake. 
You have lost five pounds, and you look as if you had lost 
your last friend, too.” 

With this Elizabeth hurried off to join Polly Porson, for 
they both belonged to the same clique of rather lively girls 
just at this time beginning to promote theatricals, tableaux, 
and other frivolities, calculated to show that Radcliffe girls 
had other talents besides the purely scholastic. 

“It ’s easy for Miss Darcy to talk,” said Jane Townall, 
turning to Ruth, as Elizabeth moved away. “The loss 
of a grade would not hurt her ; she is not going to teach, 
and it will be all the same to her whether she gets a plain 
degree, or a cum laudeJ^ 

“She does pretty well, though,” interposed a girl who 
had just joined the group. “ She showed me her marks 
last year, and there was nothing, I think, below ‘B.’” 

“ Oh, there ’s an art in getting marks, just as there is in 
achieving greatness of any other sort. Perhaps you are 
not aware. Freshmen,” and the speaker turned toward 
Ruth and Julia, “that one principle in selecting courses is 
to choose those demanding the least work, and at the 
same time yielding the highest marks. There ’s a curious 
relation between the two. The easier the course and the 
smaller the amount of work in it, the higher the mark. 
Elizabeth goes in for such things as Semitic 12 and Fine 
Arts 1, and — oh, well, we know the list. They are 
studies that make for culture and high marks.” 


74 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Also,” said another girl, “Elizabeth believes in mak- 
ing a good impression on her instructors. She will break 
into a lecture three times in the course of the hour to ask 
a question which sometimes has only the slightest connec- 
tion with the subject. But often it gives the instructor 
an opportunity for a series of footnotes to the lecture in 
the shape of original remarks, and he ends by believing 
Elizabeth to be the most intelligent girl in his class. He 
keeps this in mind when her blue-book falls into his hand. 
This is one secret of her succeeding without working, for 
she says that she does not work, and you say that she gets 
good marks.” 

“In other words, she ‘swipes’ marks,” interposed 
Clarissa. 

Jane Townall looked uncomfortable at the tone of the 
discussion. Personalities were distasteful to her. 

“Miss Darcy is very pleasant,” she ventured; “every 
one likes her. I envy a girl who has the faculty of mak- 
ing herself agreeable to every one.” 

Jane meant to pay Elizabeth a very high compliment, 
but the two Juniors in the group laughed heartily. 

“That’s just it,” said the taller of the two. “Eliza- 
beth does try to make herself agreeable to every one. She 
would rather be called uneducated than unpopular. I 
shouldn’t wonder,” she concluded with a smile, “if she 
had designs on the Idler. But then, she ’d make a fairly 
good President.” 

“Oh, but what a change after Miss Witherspoon! 
Besides, I’d rather see a girl like Lois Forsaith.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


75 


“ Oh, well, of course. By the time she is a Senior her 
turn may come, but at present it’s out of the question. 
Indeed, I doubt that she ’d ever be elected, however 
strongly some of us might wish it. She ’s too indepen- 
dent; and though she doesn’t make enemies, she wouldn’t 
have enough people to work for her at an election. She 
has n’t many intimate friends. You ’ve got to belong to a 
clique if you want to hold office, or else be tremendously 
and surpassingly beautiful or rich.” 

“Well, Lois isn’t that exactly. She ’s just a good all- 
round kind of girl with considerable talent, and she ’s so 
independent that nobody ever quite appreciates her.” 

“Well, I’m sure,” said Jane Townall primly, as the 
group broke up, “ I feel as if in some way I had done Miss 
Darcy an injury. I really did not mean to make her a 
subject of discussion when I spoke of the ease with which 
she takes her examinations. I hope that I did n’t do her 
any injustice. I ’m sure that I did n’t mean to.” 

“Of course you didn’t, Jane; you wouldn’t hurt a fly, 
we all know that,” exclaimed one of the Juniors with a 
surprising flippancy. Jane was Julia’s Senior adviser, 
and her four months at Radcliffe had n’t lessened her awe 
of Seniors in general, and of Jane in particular. For 
although Jane was awkward — unused to conventional 
society — and wrapped up in her studies, she had more 
than once gone out of her way to help. Julia; and while 
she was timid about offering advice, when asked to give it 
she was always logical and painstaking in what she said. 


IX 


TWO CATASTEOPHES 

One Monday soon after the mid-years Julia and Eliza- 
beth were walking down Garden Street in the face of a 
rather sharp wind. Elizabeth, like all who are not Boston 
bred, complained of the spring winds as if they were more 
vicious than in her native New Jersey. Passing the old 
graveyard, she laughingly reminded Julia that Longfel- 
low’s “dust is in her beautiful eyes,” applied to one 
who lay buried within the First Parish enclosure, and that 
some wit had commented that dust was always in some 
one’s eyes in Cambridge. 

“Yet it’s an interesting old graveyard,” said Julia, 
“ and sometime I hope to go inside and study some of the 
inscriptions.” 

“We all mean to do those things,” responded Elizabeth, 
“ when we are Freshmen. I did myself last year. Christ 
Church is almost next door to Fay House, and it ’s one 
of the many that Washington honored. But I doubt if 
you go within it before your Senior year, unless you make 
it your regular church. But, dear me! What is that?” 

A white shower was falling at their feet, and, looking 
up, the two saw Pamela, the very picture of despair. The 
three girls were almost in front of the old Dane Law 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


77 


School, now given up to the uses of the Co-operative 
Society, and the sidewalk was slightly glazed with ice. 
The wind, blowing strong in the faces of Julia and Eliza- 
beth, had apparently carried the slight figure of Pamela 
before it. Evidently, too, she had been shopping at some 
Harvard Square grocer’s, and in her efforts to keep her- 
self from slipping, her black woollen bag had turned over, 
and its contents were scattered. If the grocer had tied 
up tightly that five-pound paper bag of granulated sugar 
there might have been no catastrophe; but in some way 
the string had loosened, and Pamela stood helpless, as the 
stream of sugar poured itself out on the sidewalk under 
the very eyes of the fastidious Elizabeth Darcy. Elizabeth 
passed on with a gesture of annoyance. On the steps of 
the Co-operative she had seen two or three youths whom 
she knew, and she did not intend to make herself one of a 
ridiculous group. Julia did not follow her, as she swept 
up the steps of the Co-operative. Nor did the Harvard 
youths accompany her. Elizabeth was accustomed to at- 
tention; and though these three raised their hats politely, 
and although one stepped forward to open the door, she 
noticed that the others hastened toward Julia. 

Julia, too, had recognized the young men before she 
began to help Pamela, and had she acted on impulse, she 
might have passed on with Elizabeth, for she knew that 
Philip was only too ready to criticise anything strange in 
the appearance of a Radcliffe girl. But Julia would not 
have been Julia had she deserted Pamela. 

The bag itself had slipped from the Vermont girl’s 


78 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


hands, and a note -book or two, and a number of loose 
sheets lay on the sidewalk. To save these papers from a 
coming gust, Philip and Will rushed forward. Had Julia 
not been there they might have hesitated to intrude on 
Pamela. Yet their natural chivalry would probably have 
triumphed. 

“Never mind the sugar,” whispered Julia to Pamela, 
and the young men as politely ignored it. 

Julia, then picking up the bag, replaced the papers and 
note-boolcs that had been gathered up. Pamela, thor- 
oughly abashed, tried to take the bag from her friend, 
with a feeble “Let me do it,” but Julia, finishing her self- 
imposed task, introduced Philip and Will to Pamela. 

“We ’re going to the car office,” she replied in answer 
to Philip’s question. Therefore, across the Square, ac- 
compained by the two young men, Pamela and Julia 
threaded their way between two lines of electric cars. 

“We’re evidently dismissed,” said Philip, as Julia 
bade them good-bye at the office ; and after a word or two 
more. Will and he went back in the direction of the 
Yard. 

“That was rather plucky in Julia, wasn’t it?” said 
Will. 

“What?” asked Philip, who sometimes seemed to have 
the obtuseness of his sister. 

“Why, the way she tried to make that girl feel com- 
fortable — I did n’t catch her name. But she ’s evidently 
a shy creature, and she had got herself into a scrape with 
all that sugar on the sidewalk.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


79 


“I thought that she was rather bright-looking, ” re- 
sponded Philip, “ though her clothes were pretty freakish.” 

“ Well, I fancy we were rather in the way as long as we 
couldn’t help much. Julia has probably carried the girl 
home with her. Did she open her mouth to you ? ” 

“Who, Julia?” 

“No, the other girl. I didn’t hear her say a word.” 

“Oh, she said ‘yes’ once and ‘no’ twice,” replied 
Philip, laughing. 

“Ah!” sighed Pamela, standing beside Julia, “I hope 
I ’ll never see any sugar again. I ’m not bound to do 
errands for Miss Batson.” Then, as Julia looked puzzled, 
she began to explain. “ Miss Batson is my — ” she hesi- 
tated. She could not truthfully say “landlady,” so she 
tried again. “ She has the house where I live. She has 
boarders, and sometimes I do errands for her. It seems 
easy to carry her things in my bag, but to-day — ” 

“Were you on your way home?” interposed Julia, to 
draw her mind from the recent catastrophe. 

“No, I was going to Fay House to study.” 

“ Well, then, please come home with me. Ruth and I 
are always at home Mondays, but you have never called 
on us.” 

Pamela hesitated. Every hour counted in her scheme 
of work. But the temptation was strong, and she 
went on with Julia. Although the latter remembered 
that Pamela had never invited her to call, she real- 
ized that she herself might have done various little 
things to make the way pleasanter for one who was so 


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BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


evidently alone. She could see that Pamela would not 
make friends easily, and she had noticed her at none of 
the college affairs since that first Idler. 

“College ought to be broadening,” thought Julia, “and 
yet I believe that it has made me extraordinarily selfish. 
I have n’t the least excuse to offer for neglecting Pamela, 
for I saw at the beginning of the term that she would need 
a friend.” 

Pamela’s eye brightened as she stood on the thresh- 
old of Julia’s pretty room. “How lovely it is!” she 
exclaimed. 

The open fire blazing on the hearth certainly gave the 
room a cheerful aspect, and the little tea-table added to 
the homelikeness of the scene. Poor Pamela sighed, the 
comfort appealed to her. There on the table lay several 
of the newest books, — one a volume of criticism that had 
attracted great attention ; another, and the best of all in 
Pamela’s eyes, a history of Italian Art, very fully illus- 
trated. She recognized the cover, and could hardly keep 
her hands from it. 

The general tone of the draperies was old blue, always 
a restful color when not used in excess. The curtains 
were of a soft rep in this shade, and beneath them were 
spotted muslin short blinds. Two of the easy-chairs were 
covered in old blue corduroy, and a third, of soft brown 
ooze leather, was particularly inviting. There were two 
or three small water-colors hanging there, but the pictures 
on the wall were chiefly photographs from the old masters. 
There were three Rembrandt heads, life-size, and a Ma- 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


81 


donna of Botticelli, as well as his head of a Florentine lady. 
A Turner etching hung on the little space at the edge of 
the mantle, and two or three etchings of minor importance 
closed the list of pictures. Julia’s piano filled one recess, 
and a bookcase that she had had made especially for the 
room filled the other. 

Before Pamela could protest that she intended to stay 
but a few minutes, she found herself with hat and coat 
off, cosily seated before the fire. Julia flung herself on 
the divan between the windows. 

“I really feel tired! That wind was very wearing. 
After all, home is a good place on a day like this. I will 
have the tea sent up before four o’clock, or rather the hot 
water, for I make the tea myself. Oh, here is Ruth I Do 
like a good girl touch the bell. I like to start with the 
water hot,” explained Julia, filling her kettle with water 
from Mrs. Colton’s kitchen. With the aid of the alcohol 
lamp the water soon boiled. Then putting three coverfuls 
of tea from the caddy into a china teapot, she covered the 
teapot with an embroidered cozy. 

Please notice,” cried Ruth, “our silver caddy. An 
old grand-aunt of mine presented it to me in her delight 
that we were to have a tea-table. She had feared that 
college would destroy our domestic tastes.” 

“Yes,” added Julia, “we have made a great impression 
on our relatives by demanding things for our tea-table. 
When they asked what we wished for our rooms they 
evidently expected us to say dictionaries or other books. 
But here is a fascinating set of spoons from my cousin 

6 


82 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


Brenda — every handle different ; and Aunt Anna gave me 
this biscuit jar, and Edith Blair worked these doilies.” 

“Is that a Tanagra figure?” asked Pamela abruptly, 
pointing to the bookcase. “How I envy you!” 

“Take it down,” said Julia, “if you wish to examine 
it close at hand, although it 's only a replica,” she added 
apologetically. 

“Oh, may I?” exclaimed Pamela, lifting it from the 
broad top of the bookcase. And while the conversation 
flowed on she examined the figurine, fondly noting every 
graceful line. 

No one who looked at Pamela could fail to comprehend 
that she must be more or less stinted for money. She 
herself would have told you, had you asked her, that she 
knew that her gray gown was of rather dowdy make, 
although she might not have realized as clearly as the on- 
looker just where the seams were crooked, or in what 
particular places the skirt hung unevenly. Pamela had 
at the best a limited wardrobe, and her village dressmaker 
had not kept pace with city styles. Pamela herself, un- 
skilled with the needle, even when she knew that a gar- 
ment might be improved, had not the ability to make the 
change. She consoled herself with the thought that no 
one in Cambridge was likely to notice her. She was too 
obscure to be criticised. She had always admired Julia’s 
gowns, so pretty and so simple, yet with the hall-mark of 
good workmanship. Pamela was a lover of beauty in 
every form, and she now wished vaguely, as she watched 
Ruth moving about the room, that she herself possessed at 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


83 


least one gown that she could wear as gracefully as Ruth 
wore hers. Ruth was giving little touches to the furni- 
ture, moving one chair farther from the fire, pulling 
another out of a corner. Julia had excused herself for a 
moment to rearrange her hair in the inner room, “in 
case,” she said, “that we should have some more critical 
callers.” 

Hardly had she left when there came a loud rapping at 
the door. 

“Come in!” cried Ruth. “It must be Percy Colton. 
He often runs up after school,” she added in an aside to 
Pamela. 

The door was thrown open with a bang, and there on 
the threshold stood Clarissa, tall, almost overpoweringly 
tall, with a smile on her face, a flush of crimson on her 
cheeks, and a winter coat of a much brighter crimson on 
her back. Two other girls were with her, whom she im- 
mediately introduced to Ruth as Miss Burlap, of Kansas, 
and Miss Creighton, of Maine. 

“It is so much better,” she said, immediately explain- 
ing, “to know from just what State a girl comes. You 
know what to talk about from the start, and you can 
account sooner for her peculiarities.” 

Ruth smiled at this sally, although she was not inclined 
to approve much that Clarissa said or did, and she was 
glad to see Julia emerging from the bedroom. Julia’s 
greeting was very cordial to Clarissa and her companions, 
and Clarissa when she caught sight of Pamela greeted her 
as a long-lost friend. 


84 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Hardly, however, was the interchange of greetings over 
when the half-open door was pushed open wider. “ More 
visitors! ” exclaimed Ruth. “How exciting! ” 

Mrs. Blair entered Julia’s study with lorgnette raised. 
The action was involuntary. She had found the stairway 
at Mrs. Colton’s rather narrower than stairways she was 
accustomed to, and had used the lorgnette to help her find 
her way. Julia hastened forward to greet her, while 
Edith and Brenda, with less ceremony, pushed past Mrs. 
Blair into the centre of the room. 

“Why, how perfectly delightful!” cried Ruth, and 
“What a surprise! ” said Julia; and the room which a few 
minutes before had seemed large and comparatively quiet 
now appeared small, crowded, and bustling. The four 
girls who knew one another best were chattering, and the 
four other girls, Pamela, Clarissa, and the two friends of 
the latter, tried not to show too much interest in the trio 
that had just entered. Mrs. Blair continued to survey 
the scene through her lorgnette until she had seated her- 
self in an easy-chair. 

“Why, it ’s even prettier than when I was here before,” 
cried Brenda in her rather high-pitched voice. “You have 
two new chairs and a new etching and several cups, — at 
least there are certainly two new ones.” 

“I dare say,” responded Julia; “you must remember 
that you have been here only once this year.” 

“It is really a very pleasant room,” added Mrs. Blair, 
looking about her ; “ not nearly as unconventional as I had 
supposed.” Mrs. Blair had hesitated a little before the 






BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


85 


last word. “Feared” was what she would have said had 
she not corrected herself in time. 

“Ever since you’ve been at Radcliffe,” said Edith, 
“mamma has been awfully afraid that you would turn 
into something unconventional. That’s one reason we 
brought her out here to-day. We wished her to see that 
even in a college room you could still be yourself.” 

“Now Edith,” cried Mrs. Blair, “I knew that Julia 
could not change, but of course I can’t quite get used to 
a girl’s having rooms just like a Harvard student.” 

“Well now, Mrs. Blair, you can see that ours are not 
just like theirs. I only wish that they were. There ’s 
no such luck in sight as yet for Radcliffe students as a 
fine dormitory for our own use like Claverly or Hastings 
— or even Hoi worthy. We can’t have suites of rooms 
and private bath-rooms, and all the fine things that Philip 
and his friends have.” 

“No,” added Ruth, “we have n’t any proctor, even, to 
keep watch over us.” 

“That’s one of the things that would trouble me a 
little. Whom do you have for chaperons?” 

Clarissa could no longer keep silent. 

“An American girl” — she spoke with emphasis — “is 
her own best chaperon. I ’ve travelled hundreds of miles 
alone myself. I ’ve even gone to lectures alone — at 
night — and no one ever was rude to me. Indeed, I ’d 
like to see any one try to be! He wouldn’t try it a 
second time.” 

Julia and Ruth looked slightly uncomfortable during 


86 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


this outburst. Brenda and Edith began to giggle, and 
the others discreetly kept their eyes cast down. 

Mrs. Blair unconsciously raised her lorgnette again. 

“Why, certainly,” she said, “a young girl need not 
look for rudeness. I was merely thinking that she would 
be better with her own family.” 

“ Oh, but if she can’t have her own family, is n’t it the 
next best thing for some other person’s family to offer her 
a home? ” 

“But I do not like the idea,” said Mrs. Blair, “of your 
living outside of dormitories.” 

“But the great charm of our life here is its indepen- 
dence,” said Julia politely. “You know, too, that our 
boarding-places must be approved by the Dean ; and if we 
are very hard to manage, we can be reported by our 
landladies.” 

“But do they ever do it?” 

“Well, I have heard that no Radcliffe girl has ever had 
to be reprimanded severely. For my own part, I feel bound 
to behave even better here than I would at home.” In her 
eagerness to do her college justice, Ruth forgot that she 
was taking Clarissa’s side of the argument. 

“Besides,” added Julia, “many Radcliffe girls live at 
home in Boston, or Cambridge, or the suburbs, coming to 
the college only for lectures, so that we ought not to be 
under more restrictions than they.” 

“I did not mean to start so serious a discussion,” said 
Mrs. Blair. “I’m glad to see your piano here, Julia; 
music is so womanly an accomplishment;” and Mrs. Blair 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


87 


sipped her tea with satisfaction. “You make a good cup 
of tea, too.” 

“ Then you can report that we are fairly feminine ? ” 

“Yes, indeed, Julia. But come, girls, we promised to 
look in on Philip toward five o’clock.” 

While Brenda and Edith were saying their last words 
Pamela in her corner sat unnoticed with the Tanagra 
figure in her lap. Clarissa, meanwhile, talked to Mrs. 
Blair with surprising ease. 

Mrs. Blair was accustomed to deference even from her 
special friends, and it seemed strange to have this young 
person meet her on impersonal grounds, and talk to her 
merely as any girl might to any woman. Mrs. Blair 
looked at Clarissa intently, without the lorgnette. She 
had always heard that there was something queer about 
college girls. Here was one of the species close at hand, 
and those other girls in the corner, who had had so little 
to say to her. They were all rather badly dressed, at 
least one could see that their gowns were not tailor-made. 
Julia, of course, was not an ordinary college girl. She 
was Mr. Barlow’s niece who had chosen to go to college, 
and it did seem a pity that she had to know all kinds of 
people. These were the thoughts flitting through Mrs. 
Blair’s mind as she stood there waiting for Brenda and 
Edith. As they stood there the handle of her umbrella 
became entangled in her lorgnette chain. “Permit me,” 
said Clarissa, trying to help her. But after a little effort 
a sudden jerk sent the umbrella against the brass fender, 
and a bit of the delicate ivory carving was broken, 


88 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Now, it’s of no consequence,” protested Mrs. Blair, 
as Clarissa apologized for her carelessness. Then with a 
farewell that was as cordial for Clarissa as for the others, 
Mrs. Blair, with her furs and rustling skirts and polished 
manner, had departed, and the room seemed large and 
quiet again. 

“After all,” sighed Clarissa, “there is something in a 
society manner, for I suppose that ’s what you ’d call Mrs. 
Blair’s pleasant way of saying things that she doesn’t 
exactly mean. Though I must have seemed a clumsy 
creature, she almost made me believe that I ’d done right 
in breaking that bit of ivory. It ’s the first time 1 ’ve seen 
a grande dame at close range, and it ’s refreshing — for a 
change. Dear me ! ” and Clarissa turned to Pamela, 
“nursing a doll? I hadn’t noticed before just what you 
were doing.” 

Pamela reddened under this chaffing, for at Clarissa’s 
words Miss Burlap, of Kansas, and Miss Creighton, of 
Maine, turned their eyes toward her. 

“It’s a Tanagra figure,” said Pamela; “it belongs to 
Miss Bourne.” 

“ Oh, I ’m just as wise as I was before. It looks like 
some kind of a heathen idol, and you gaze at it as if you 
adored it.” 

“Come, Miss Herter,” said Julia, hastening to the relief 
of Pamela. “Even Freshmen in Cambridge are expected 
to know something about Greek Art. You ’d better get a 
catalogue of the Boston Art Museum, and the next time 
you go there you can study the Tanagra figures.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


89 


“Well,” replied Clarissa, “I’ll take your advice. But 
now I must be off. ‘ Answers to Correspondents ’ always 
declare that it ’s rude to outstay an earlier caller, but Mrs. 
Blair and your cousin so fascinated me that I forgot my 
manners.” 

So Clarissa and her friends went away, but Pamela, at 
Julia’s request, stayed a little longer. Two or three other 
pleasant Radcliffe girls dropped in, and she enjoyed their 
bright, informal conversation. She found afterwards that 
to meet any one at Miss Bourne’s was sure to open a 
pleasanter acquaintance than any casual introduction. 

The memory of this Monday afternoon cheered her as 
she set the table that evening, and waited on Miss Batson, 
and washed the dishes. Fate, indeed, had been particu- 
larly kind to her, for Miss Batson, who was apt to be 
absent-minded, had herself bought sugar that afternoon, 
forgetting entirely that she had asked Pamela to get it. 


X 


DISCUSSIONS AND DISCUSSIONS 

The Easter vacation had come and passed, and Pamela 
was pleased to find herself again attending lectures. She 
had been a little lonely, for almost all of her classmates 
had been away somewhere “for fun or for clothes,” as 
Polly Porson put it. Polly and Clarissa had gone to- 
gether to New York, where the former had an aunt, and 
their talk now turned on Art exhibitions, Waldorf 
musicales, and things of that kind. Julia, yielding to 
her aunt’s entreaties, had fixed her mind more or less 
attentively on clothes. Lois had had to put her own time 
and strength into remodelling and shaping the lighter 
summer clothes. Whereas in Julia’s case her greatest 
sacrifice of time came in the unescapable “ fittings ” which 
she had to undergo at the dressmaker’s. Pamela had had 
neither fun nor new clothes to console her in the vaca- 
tion. She had been unable to afford the trip to Vermont, 
and indeed she did not intend to return home for the 
summer holidays, unless she should fail to find some 
employment in vacation that would help her pay her 
expenses during the next college year. Her one luxury 
through the recess had been frequent trips to Boston. 
She had wandered to her heart’s content through the Art 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


91 


shops, and she had spent many hours in the Art Museum. 
She had saved car-fare by walking one way to Boston, and 
this exercise in itself had probably been an advantage to 
her, as in winter she had had little time for long walks. 
The fresh spring air as she walked along blew many cob- 
webs from her brain. For Pamela was not of a hopeful 
temperament, and she could not help wondering where she 
should get her income for the coming year. Her aunt’s 
letters were not altogether cheerful. Between the lines 
she could read that continued disapproval of her ambition 
for a college degree. “If you had gone to the Normal 
School,” read one of the letters, “you’d be almost ready 
now to take a school. Perhaps you might have had a 
chance at the Academy. They say that Miss Smith is 
going to be married.” 

“They’ll feel better if I tell them that I’m likely to 
get a scholarship at the end of another year. Oh, I do 
hope that I shall take second-year honors ! That will 
make the scholarship almost certain. If I could earn fifty 
dollars above my expenses this summer, and if Miss Bat- 
son will give me the same chance next year, why, I can 
certainly hold on until I get a scholarship. Ah, me! ” 

The sigh was perhaps not to be wondered at, for Pamela 
saw clearly the uphill road that lay before her. Some- 
times she could not help contrasting herself with Julia and 
Clarissa, and the others before whom life seemed to spread 
out so delightfully. She listened with interest to all that 
these lighter-hearted girls had to tell of their vacation 
experiences, and she bent with redoubled energy to her 


92 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


work. May was at hand, and nobody can be utterly down- 
hearted in May, with the trees bursting into bloom, and 
the air growing softer and sweeter, and the bright spring 
sun touching everything with gold, making even literary 
Cambridge a pleasant place for the hundreds of students 
who cross the Yard to the halls of Harvard, or walk 
through Garden Street to Fay House. Yet despite spring 
sunshine, Pamela shrank into herself, and even Julia 
could not drag her out of her routine. 

“It isn’t right,” Clarissa remonstrated, “to think so 
much of Xenophon, Plato, and Euripides. They may 
have been very able men, but to think of them alone will 
make you one-sided.” 

“If you had studied Greek you’d be less frivolous,” 
remarked Julia, as Clarissa picked up a slip of paper with 
printed questions that fluttered from one of Pamela’s 
books. Clarissa read aloud from the paper : 

“‘ IX. Write on the results, to logic and ethics, of the 
work of Socrates, and the impression which it made on his 
contemporaries as illustrated in “The Clouds.”’ Is it 
strange,” she commented, “that Pamela is half in the 
clouds and here? ‘ Write an account of the life and pro- 
fessional activity of Lysias.’ It would be more season- 
able to write an account of the professional activity of the 
catcher on the Harvard nine. Throw aside this foolish 
paper, Pamela! Why, the heading says, ‘ Divide your 
time equally between Lysias and Plato.’ Your aunt in 
Vermont ought to know about this.” 

“Don't crumple it,” cried Pamela, flushing under this 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 93 

badinage. “ I save all my examination papers ; that was a 
mid-year.’^ 

“To make a scrap-book?” queried Polly, who had 
joined the group. “Excuse my smiles, but it seems so 
comical to care tenderly for examination papers. Why, I 
tear mine up, and throw my blue-books into the fire. 
Lecture notes are more entertaining. Clarissa’s, for 
example! Clarissa, if your notes in History 100 should 
be published, they would contribute greatly to the gaiety 
of nations. You must not let them fall into the hands of 
the profane.” 

The lecturer in History 100 had a rather original 
method in dealing with his subject. His style was col- 
loquial, and when in his opinion the occasion demanded 
it, he used expressions that bordered pretty closely on 
slang. Nevertheless, he had a fine command of his sub- 
ject, and that he was a valued member of the Faculty was 
shown by his standing near the head of his department. 
That he shattered some of the idols that his students had 
worshipped did not lessen the value of his teaching. 
After expressing his own views fully (and sometimes 
jocosely), he would always refer them to numerous books, 
by reading which they coulfi inform themselves on the 
other side of the subject. Although open, perhaps, to 
some criticism from an academic point of view. Professor 
Z (for so he was nicknamed from one of his most popular 
courses) was a stimulating instructor, and his Radcliffe 
students set a high value on what they learned from him. 

Nevertheless, Polly and even the sedate Pamela were 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


almost convulsed with laughter as Clarissa read from her 
note-book what she claimed to be one of Professor Z’s 
lectures. “Stage directions,” as Clarissa called them, 
had been used very freely. “ Here he frowned.” “At this 
point he stroked his moustache and looked inexpressibly 
bored.” “At quarter-past three he told us that he thought 
that Cromwell did not deserve any further attention, at 
least from him, and that we ’d all be happier for a little 
respite from Puritanism. Whereupon he left us — fifteen 
minutes to the better.” 

“How would you like Professor Z to see your note- 
book?” asked Polly mischievously. 

“Why, I shouldn’t care. I never do behind any one’s 
back what I could not just as well do before his face. 
The worst, I suppose, that he could give me would be a 
‘ D ; ’ but I think, on the whole, that he would be rather 
amused that I had had sufficient interest to take notes at 
once so literal and so copious.” 

“Yes, but don’t let that book fall into the hands of 
outsiders. They might feel that we were not under suffi- 
ciently serious influences. You New Englanders are so 
serious.” 

“Julia’s the only New Englander here. You mustn’t 
be too severe,” said Polly. 

“No, indeed,” rejoined Clarissa; “but speaking of 
Jane — ” 

“ Who spoke of Jane ? ” 

“Well, if we were speaking of Jane, it seems to me that 
we should all say that she looks tired — too much work 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


95 


and no play. She ’s something like you, Pamela, only more 
so, though she has the excuse of being a Senior. But 
speaking of Seniors (we really were speaking of Seniors 
this time), there ’s Jane herself. Come, Jane,” and Polly 
raised her voice slightly, that Jane, who was passing the 
door, might hear her. 

It was after half-past four, and Polly, Pamela, and 
the others were sitting in one of the vacant recitation 
rooms. 

“Come, Jane,” said Polly, “we wish you to tell us why 
you have abjured society of late. There have been several 
teas lately where you were especially expected, which were 
remarkably desolate on account of your absence.” 

At this Jane looked uncomfortable. Was Polly mak- 
ing fun of her? 

Julia’s more serious tones reassured her. 

“Yes, tell us, Jane. Ruth and I had the special honor 
the other evening of pouring chocolate at Professor Jud- 
son’s; his wife is some kind of a cousin of Uncle Robert’s. 
But why weren’t you there? You belong to the Philo- 
sophical Club.” 

“Yes,” added Polly. “You would have enjoyed meet- 
ing some of your fellow sufferers from Harvard; there 
were several sedate youths among them, Jane, exactly 
your style. The paper was most improving; every social 
gathering in Cambridge has to be opened with a paper. 
Why were n’t you there ? ” 

“Clothes,” replied Jane laconically, smoothing the folds 
of her black student gown. 


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BRENDANS COUSIN AT RAUCLIFFE 


“ Oh, I suppose that you do not care to go where you 
cannot wear that becoming cap and gown. 

“Oh, Jane ! oh, Jane ! oh, Jane ! oh, Jane ! 

Never did I think that you were so vain.” 

Jane’s discomfort increased under Polly’s fusillade. 

“I might be more comfortable in my cap and gown,” 
she retorted, “but they would be as unsuitable as my 
brown merino in some places, and that is the only best 
gown that I own.” 

“I’m sure that it ’s, it ’s — ” 

“No,” said Jane gravely, as Julia stumbled; “no, it is 
neither beautiful nor becoming. But it has been very 
useful to me this winter. I wear it at our college func- 
tions with few qualms. It is only when I am invited 
outside that I am disinclined to wear it.” 

“Isn’t that rather foolish? In these days woman can 
be perfectly independent about her clothes.” And Clar- 
issa gave her curly head the toss of independent “Young 
America.” 

“No one can live entirely to herself, even in the matter 
of clothes,” Jane explained. “If a hostess goes to the 
trouble and expense of providing a pleasant evening for 
her friends, her guests should wear festival attire. You 
are ‘ asserting a false mood.’ Is n’t that what Shaftesbury 
would say?” And she turned to Polly, who of all present 
alone happened to be in her Philosophy class. 

“Yes,” said Clarissa, “I agree with you there. I never 
could understand why people in the East wear ugly 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


97 


clothes at times when they ought to be in their best 
bib and tucker. When 1 am invited anywhere — which 
is n’t often — I always try to wear something bright and 
cheerful.” 

“ The poster girl I ” murmured Polly under her breath. 

“I’d rather he called a poster girl than a mummy,” 
said Clarissa, “though you, Jane, in your brown merino 
would be more welcome at some functions than others I 
could name in purple and fine linen.” 

“ And I will wear my brown dress and never look too 
fine,” hummed Polly. “You remember that Jennie Wren 
married Cock Robin, who seems to have been a fairy prince 
among the birds. Every one knows that you are sure of 
a summa cum^ Jane Townall, so that you ought to be able 
to wear what you like at any time.” 

“I can’t speak for Jane,” interposed Julia, “but I am 
sure that in accepting invitations we ought to think of 
what the hostess would like. Don’t frown, Clarissa.” 

“ Oh, of course you are more in society than we are.” 

“Nonsense, that isn’t fair, ” replied Julia. “But col- 
lege girls ought to place themselves above the criticisms 
of those who do not look below the surface.” 

“One shouldn’t think too much of appearances. Who 
cares for narrow-minded people? We must take the world 
as we find it.” 

“I suppose so,” sighed Clarissa. “If I had worn a con- 
ventional Boston costume, perhaps Mrs. Blair would not 
have gazed at me the other day as if I were some newly 
discovered species. Next year I’ll appear out in — ” 

7 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Excuse me for interrupting,” cried Polly, “but let us 
do the proper thing by putting the matter to the vote.” 

“Resolved, that no Radcliffe student shall accept an 
invitation to a festivity in Cambridge, or the adjoining 
suburb Boston, unless arrayed in a becoming light 
gown.” 

“Low-necked?” questioned Clarissa. 

“Cream-white?” asked Jane with unwonted levity. 

“Color and style to suit the complexion of the wearer,” 
replied Polly. “Only no more dingy street gowns and 
hats at evening receptions.” 

Though there wasn’t a dissenting voice, all knew that 
they were in earnest to only a limited extent. Yet the 
discussion showed that dress was a subject demanding 
some attention from even the busiest college girl. It 
could not be dismissed with a word. “ If a hostess fears 
that I shall mortify her she needn’t invite me.” A busy 
girl naturally cannot give much time to shopping and 
dressmakers. Often she has little money to give to 
either. Yet by exercising care and taste, the girl with a 
small purse can often work wonders. The world of 
college undergraduates long since decided that there is 
no real connection between genius and dowdy dress, and 
that the wearer of a well-fitting gown need not lack 
mental ability. 

There was some point to this discussion beca-use invita- 
tions to affairs outside of the immediate college now came 
occasionally to even the quietest of the Freshmen. One 
or two of their professors invited them to receptions. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


99 


Some of the girls living at home in Cambridge or Boston 
entertained more or less. In addition there were various 
college affairs to which the outside world was invited, and 
those students who acted as hostesses or ushers were espe- 
cially conspicuous. 

Simplicity was the keynote of most of the entertain- 
ments offered outside of Radcliffe, as well as in the col- 
lege itself. This was disappointing sometimes to the 
occasional girl, conscious of her father’s wealth, who had 
come to Cambridge expecting this wealth to count for as 
much in her college life as it had counted at her own 
home. Yet no girl ,at Radcliffe was ever so dull as not to 
discover speedily that plain living really set the standard 
in Cambridge, and that any departure from simplicity was 
really regarded as blamable rather than praiseworthy. 


L.OFC. 


XI 


EFFOETS TO HELP 

Julia, one spring afternoon, waiting in Edith’s library 
for Edith to return from down town, was in the midst of 
a conversation with Philip. His woe-begone face might 
have made her laugh had she not fortunately realized that 
one cannot long retain her influence over the person she 
has laughed at. 

“If she hadn’t written me herself,” Philip was saying, 
“ I could n’t have believed it. It seems he ’s a member of 
Parliament, too. Well, I may be something myself some- 
time. She might have waited. I can’t fix my mind on 
anything now, and I fancy mother and Edith will be dis- 
appointed when I can’t get my degree.” 

“What have they to do with it?” cried Julia. “I’m 
sure that they have always encouraged you. ” 

“Why, if they hadn’t disapproved of Adelaide Cain, 
she might not have been so heartless, and then I should 
be in better spirits now.” 

“You can’t imagine, ” said Julia, “that Adelaide Cain 
threw you over just because your mother disapproved of 
her ? She has n’t the reputation of being so conscientious.” 

“How hard girls are to one another I ” exclaimed Philip 
in his most cynical tone. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


101 


“ Nonsense ! nonsense ! ” and Julia laughed. “ I ’m posi- 
tive that in three months you will rejoice that Miss Cain 
preferred some one else. But did you mean what you 
just said about your degree?” 

“Well, my degree is certainly awfully shaky. There 
was a scrape I was in in my Freshman year. They kept 
me on probation, and they do not seem to think that I 
have lived it down. Then I have two exams, to make up, 
one I lost when I was sick and another 1 failed on, and 
some of my work this year is a little uncertain. I ’ve a 
good mind to cut it all now and quit.” 

“What I leave everything, without taking your degree? 
No, indeed, Philip, you mustn’t do it I ” 

“Well, I’ve only a few weeks, and — and — well, I 
suppose that I might as well make a full confession. I 
have a lot of debt hanging over me, and I cannot tell my 
father.” 

“Oh, Philip! ” Julia threw a great deal of feeling into 
her tone. This last trouble seemed much more serious 
than either of the other things of which Philip had 
spoken. She felt that it was to his advantage that Miss 
Cain had set him aside, and she knew that if he applied 
himself he could make up his deficiencies in his studies. 
But a matter of money — she hardly knew how to advise 
him. 

“It ’s three thousand dollars.” 

“Three thousand dollars! An enormous sum for an 
undergraduate to owe.” Although Philip had lately 
come of age, Julia knew that he had no money of his 


102 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


own. She knew, too, that although Mr. Blair was liberal 
to his children he had a strong dislike for debt. She 
wondered if he would come forward and pay this for 
Philip. 

“It’s an old debt,” said Philip. “It was made last 
year. Part of it is money I really owe, but the greater 
part is on notes I endorsed for Farlong.” 

Julia had heard of Farlong. He was a law student 
from a distance, who had made a great display for a year 
or two. Then the failure of his father — a rather notori- 
ous stockbroker — had brought his college career to a 
close. 

“Yes,” continued Philip, “I was so foolish as to let 
Farlong invest a little money for me. Of course I lost it, 
and more, too, than I put in. Then Farlong lent me 
some money, and when the crash came I was considerably 
in his debt. I ’ve been able to renew the notes, but now 
they have to be paid, and with interest the whole sum is 
three thousand dollars. So you can see that I have enough 
on my mind just at present.” 

As he talked Julia realized that she could not help him. 

“The very best thing,” she said, “is for you to go at 
once to your father. It ’s a large sum, but for a year or 
two you can economize, and it will be worth a great deal 
to get this load off your mind.” 

“I don’t know,” and Philip sighed heavily, at the same 
time closing with a snap the watch-case in which he carried 
the picture of Adelaide Cain. 

Except for the danger of offending Philip, Julia would 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


103 


have liked to laugh at his feeling for Adelaide Cain. 
Adelaide was a distant cousin of his, several years his 
senior, who had been engaged several times. She was 
fond of attention ; and as her latest engagement had been 
broken off the past summer, she had let Philip dance 
attendance upon her while she was travelling with Mrs. 
Blair’s party in Europe. Philip had imagined that she 
really cared for him, and had written her many letters 
after his return. At last Miss Cain had announced her 
engagement to another. Philip felt greatly aggrieved by 
this news. His self-love had been injured. Yet, if he 
had been willing to admit it, his present discomfort was 
caused by his money loss rather than by the loss of the 
friendship of Adelaide Cain. But it relieved his feelings 
a little to complain of the unkindness of this fickle young 
lady. 

“Now make a clean breast of it to your father,” 
cried Julia in parting. But Philip merely shrugged his 
shoulders. 

June came in as a hot month, making harder the final 
examinations of the year. There was hardly a Badcliffe 
girl who did not go about with a wilted air, as if life had 
lost all its charm. The cool corners of Fay House were 
occupied by students, and the beauty of the tree-shaded 
streets and the flower-laden gardens was wasted on them. 

Julia, Ruth, and even the discreet Pamela herself were 
no better than their fellows in this matter of examinations. 
Pamela, indeed, was especially nervous in her dread of 


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falling below “A” in something. With the hope of a 
scholarship before her, she felt that she could afford noth- 
ing less than perfection. Julia and Ruth, coaching each 
other in Latin and English, studied throughout long, 
fragrant evenings, when they would infinitely have pre- 
ferred sitting idly on Mrs. Colton’s little piazza. 

On her way from town one day as she stepped on the 
open car, Julia saw Philip upon the running-board. He 
carried his dress-suit case, and in a hurried glance Julia 
saw that he looked worn and tired. 

“ Why, what is it ? ” she asked, as he took a seat beside 
her. 

“What is what?” 

“Why, you have a very melancholy air.” 

“ I thought I told you that I had several things to worry 
me.” 

“And I advised you to tell your father.” 

“Well, I ’ve told him. I ’m going in town to tell him 
something else now, and also to bid my mother and Edith 
good-bye. They sail for Europe to-morrow.” 

“To sail to-morrow? Why, how strange! They will 
miss your Class Day.” 

“ My Class Day I ” Philip laughed sharply. “ My 
Class Day! Why, I haven’t any Class Day. I haven’t 
any Class, for that matter.” 

Julia was almost overcome by what he had said. In 
the first place, she found it almost impossible to realize 
that Edith was starting for Europe without letting her 
know her plans — without bidding her good-bye. At 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


105 


least at the first moment it had been very hard to under- 
stand this ; if Philip’s second statement should prove true, 
that he was to have no Class Day, it threw some light 
on Edith’s departure. The car thundered over Harvard 
Bridge; a fresh breeze blew from the river, and life 
seemed a little better worth living than it had a half-hour 
before. Julia looked down the river toward the city. 
Her eyes fixed themselves on the tower of the old gaol 
and on the streets that ran up the hill, until at last they 
rested on the golden dome of the State House. The 
golden dome seemed to burn itself into her brain, and 
whenever again she thought of this interview with Philip 
it seemed to dance before her eyes. 

“ What do you mean, Philip, about your Class Day?” 

“Why, just what I said. I’m going to throw it all 
up. I told you that if I could n’t straighten things out I 
wouldn’t stay. Well, I ’ve slipped up entirely on one of 
my examinations, and that has settled the question of my 
degree. My father is beside himself, he is so disap- 
pointed. He ’s making a great fuss about that money, 
too. I suppose that he ’ll pay it, but I ’m pretty sure that 
he would n’t pay any Class Day bills, too. So that even 
if I could stay for my degree, I could n’t have much fun 
Class Day. I ’m going to cut it all.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“Why, I’m going to cut it all — Cambridge, College, 
everything.” 

“ But the Law School — you are coming back to the Law 
School?” 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT BADCLIFFE 


“No, indeed, I ’ve had enough of study.” 

Had Philip looked closely at Julia he might have 
noticed an involuntary smile. It did not seem to Julia 
as if in the past few months Philip had been overworked. 

“Yes,” he continued, “I’m going on a ranch, or some- 
thing of that kind. Jim Devereux is out in Dakota, and 
he has always been asking me to come out. I ’ll go for 
the summer and see what chance there is for a fellow out 
there.” 

“But I can’t help thinking how disappointed your 
mother and Edith will be. I know that Edith has set her 
heart on your Class Day. Why, her dress is all ready. 
She wrote me about it the other day.” 

“Well,' she could wear it just the same if she weren’t 
going away. There are others in the Class, and she has 
had invitations. But my mother won’t stay. They ’re 
going straight to London. Anyway, Edith isn’t really 
out yet, and next year will be time enough for her Class 
Day.” 

Philip’s tone made Julia think of the boy who whistled 
to keep his courage up. They were near the Square. 

“I hope I ’ll see you soon,” she said, as Philip began 
to gather up his belongings preparatory to leaving the 
car. 

Philip paused for a moment, bending down to shake 
hands with her before jumping off. “I am not quite 
sure,” he said hesitatingly. “I should like to have a talk 
with you, but I am really going away at once.” Before 
she could ask him when, he had swung himself doAvn and 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


107 


was hastening toward the Yard. He had murmured an 
explanation about an engagement, and Julia had taken 
this as an apology for his leaving her so abruptly. As 
she recalled the interview word by word, she wished that 
she might have had a good talk with Edith. The next 
day was so hot that Julia went down to Rockley for 
Sunday, and there, naturally enough, she found them all 
talking of Philip’s failure to get his degree. “It all 
comes,” said Mr. Barlow, “from letting a boy have his 
own way in everything. I suppose that Philip has never 
had an ungratified wish. When his father was in college 
students had to study. I know how it was, for we were 
in the same class. But now — why, study is merely inci- 
dental. They elect this or they elect that, and it is all a 
matter of whim.” 

“ So students were altogether perfect in your day, Uncle 
Robert,” said Julia a little mischievously. “Then it 
was n’t you who told me of a whole class that was at least 
half expelled? ” 

“Rusticated, my dear, or suspended; not expelled,” 
responded Mr. Barlow with a smile. “Oh, I dare say 
that we were not exactly perfect, but then, you know boys 
will be boys.” 

“Yes, but as I understand it, Philip hasn’t even been 
rusticated, and still less expelled. It ’s only that he can’t 
get his degree this year.” 

“Well, well,” said Mr. Barlow, “it seems to me that 
that is bad enough.” 

“Oh,” interposed Brenda, “I shouldn’t wonder if he ’d 


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get it next year. Philip always could get anything he 
wanted if he’d take the trouble.” 

“It ’s a pity that he hadn’t taken the trouble this year. 
Really, I sympathize with his father. He has spent much 
money on Philip, and here he sees him leave Cambridge 
with a kind of stigma, for that is what it amounts to. I 
doubt that that ever happened to a Blair before. They 
may never have been brilliant, but they ’ve always had a 
respectable standing in college. I don’t wonder that Mr. 
Blair is annoyed. ” 

“But Edith,” cried Brenda, just think of Edith 1 She 
told me when she came home last autumn that she was 
very tired of Europe, and here she is dragged off again at 
a few days’ notice, and she wanted so much to have a 
jolly Class Day. Even if Philip isn’t there she might 
manage to have a good time. She has as many invitations 
as I have, and there are Tom Hearst and Will Hardon 
and all the others whom she knows so well.” 

“Remember, Brenda,” cried Mrs. Barlow warningly, 
“that you are going this year only by special favor. You 
are a year younger than you ought to be on your first 
Class Day.” 

“I know it, I know it, mamma, but I shall enjoy it 
just as well as if I were a year older. Besides, I shall 
go next year, too,” and Brenda pirouetted several times 
around the piazza. 

Later in the evening, as Julia sat on the piazza looking 
out at sea, at the lamps revolving in the distant light- 
house and the moon rising from the water, her thoughts 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 109 

still lingered with Philip. The moon, at first a large 
crimson disk near the horizon, had been transformed into 
a smaller golden sphere nearer the zenith, and still Julia 
sat there wondering if Philip had left Cambridge, wonder- 
ing if he would become a ranchman, wondering if he 
would think it worth while ever to come back for his 
degree. 

Fay House, when Julia returned to it, had begun to 
take on its summer expression. The finals were over, 
and the entrance examinations had not begun. Very few 
girls were visible in the house, although there was a 
double set on the tennis ground and a group watching the 
game. But within there was an almost deathly stillness. 
The conversation room no longer re-echoed to undergrad- 
uate quips and jokes, and the little brass figures, appliquded 
to the black wooden pillars of the mantle -piece as Polly 
had described them, gazed on deserted chairs. The maga- 
zines and periodicals were strewn untidily on the tables. 
Into this room Julia wandered this Monday afternoon. 
She fingered some of the magazines idly and then she 
turned toward the window. As she did so she gave a 
start, for there in a chair with her handkerchief over her 
face was a girl. Evidently she was asleep, for she did 
not stir as Julia drew near. The sight of the Vermont 
girl there — for it was Pamela — seemed to Julia like an 
echo of something that had happened. She remembered 
that it was in this very corner of this very room she had 
found Pamela looking so forlorn on the day of the first 
Idler reception. As she gazed at her now, Julia realized 


110 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


that in her absorption of the past few weeks, with a kind 
of unintentional selfishness, she had really hardly seen 
Pamela. Indeed, she had scarcely thought of her. 
Julia’s approach wakened Pamela, and as she pulled the 
handkerchief from her face, Julia noticed that she looked 
worn and thinner than usual. 

“How cool you look! ” Pamela exclaimed, as Julia took 
her hand. Pamela herself wore a stiffly starched shirt 
waist of rather clumsy cut, a high linen collar, and a 
heavy woollen skirt. Julia, in an ^cru muslin finished 
with a ruffle at the wrist and a soft ribbon at the neck, 
appeared in contrast the picture of comfort. 

“What are you going to do this summer, Pamela?” 
asked Julia suddenly. She wondered if Pamela might 
not be worrying about the future. As the latter seemed 
to hesitate over her reply, she added, “Why couldn’t you 
come home with me to dinner, and then ride somewhere 
with me on the electric cars, to Newton, or to Arlington, 
if that would suit you better? ” 

“ Oh, I wish that I could ! ” cried Pamela. “ But you 
know I am busy still at Miss Batson’s. Couldn’t you 
call for me after tea?” 

“Yes, indeed. Will seven o’clock be too early?” 

“Oh, I can be ready then, easily.” 

Julia was prompt at the appointed hour, and before 
Pamela . could interpose she was warmly greeted by Miss 
Batson and introduced to three of the boarders who were 
seated on the steps. 

As they reached the car, Julia, with her arm in Pamela’s, 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


111 


said rather brusquely, “You haven’t failed in your finals, 
have you?” 

“Why, no! But why do you ask?” Pamela’s tone 
was one of extreme surprise. 

“Oh, I wished to startle you into telling me what 
troubles you.” 

“Perhaps I am foolish,” responded Pamela, “but I’ve 
been wondering whether it ’s really worth while to go on. 
Perhaps 1 oughtn’t to come back next year.” 

“I suppose you haven’t had a mark below ‘ B.’ ” 

“I ’ve had only one ‘B.’ ” 

“ And everything else was an ‘ A ’ ? ” 

“Yes,” she replied, “but I am afraid that you think me 
very conceited to tell you.” 

“Not when I asked you. Well, if the trouble isn’t 
marks, it must be money. I should think that you might 
tell me just what it is. You do not look as well as you 
did when you entered, and you were not exactly robust 
then.” 

“I suppose it’s partly the hot weather,” responded 
Pamela, sighing. “Then, besides, I’m pretty tired of 
Miss Batson and her household. I ’m glad that she is 
going to close her house this summer. Otherwise I might 
be tempted to stay on — to save expense. She ’s going to 
take the first vacation she has had in years, and visit some 
relations in the West, and she has been able to rent her 
house for three months.” 

“ Then I suppose that you wiU go up to Vermont for the 
summer?” 


112 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


Pamela received this question in silence, and Julia saw 
that it had been ill-advised. Thus for several minutes 
they rode on without speaking. The cool air was refresh- 
ing; the electric lights here and there at the side of the 
road threw strange shadows from the trees. There was a 
certain pleasant weirdness in the scene. 

Pamela was the first to speak. “ I do not really wish 
to go up to Vermont. They think that I ought to teach. 
They think that it is foolish for me to continue at college 
when I might be earning. Besides, my aunt’s house is 
crowded now, and there is n’t a room that I could have. 
If I knew what I ought to do next year, I could tell better 
about this summer.” 

“ Do next year ? ” repeated Julia. “ Why, you would n’t 
think of doing anything but come back to college — with 
your record.” 

If Julia had noticed Pamela’s smile, she would have 
known that its wanness was not entirely the result of the 
flickering electric light. Her voice, however, betrayed 
her. 

“ It may not be wholly a matter of choice.” 

“ But you ’ve applied for a scholarship ? ” Julia realized 
now that the question was a question of money. 

“Yes, but I can’t know about it until the autumn. 
There are so few scholarships and so many applicants.” 

“ I suppose that we ought to turn our faces homeward. 
It ’s getting late,” said Julia. 

Then as they waited by the side of the road for the car 
bound Cambridge-ward, Julia saw what she ought to do. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


113 


During the ride she had been pondering, and had it been 
any one but Pamela she would have made an offer of direct 
help for the next college year. This would have meant so 
little to her, and so much to the Vermont girl. But there 
was something in Pamela — an independence of spirit in 
spite of her shrinking demeanor — that prevented her 
doing this. Yet now as from a clear sky she seemed to 
hear the echo of a speech that had actually fallen un- 
heeded on her ears a week or two before. It was the 
lamentation of a friend of Mrs. Barlow’s who bewailed 
her young son’s deficiencies in Greek. 

“ It ’s disgraceful that Teddy is so unwilling to study, 
and his father is determined to have him enter with Greek. 
If I had my way he ’d give it up. Now I suppose that we 
shall have to have a tutor. It will be a nuisance to have 
an extra man in the house, but I suppose it can’t be 
helped. If it were anything but Greek I suppose that we 
might have a woman, but as it is, I suppose that we must 
make the best of it.” 

As this conversation came back to her, Julia wondered 
that at the time she had not thought of Pamela. Possibly 
it was because the words had not been addressed to her 
directly that they had made so little impression. That 
very night she would write to Mrs. Hadwin, and if it was 
not too late, she would do her best to get the position for 
Pamela. 

“Pamela,” she whispered, after they had taken their 
seats in the returning car, “ Pamela, I feel almost certain 
that I can find something for you to do this summer. If 

8 


114 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


it is n’t the thing that I have in mind this minute it will 
be something similar. I can’t say more at present, but I 
wish that you would trust me and believe me entirely your 
friend.” 

“Thank you, of course I trust you. You have been so 
kind ever since the very first day. You remember my 
fountain pen? ” 

Both girls laughed at the remembrance. 

“Because I’ve been so despondent this evening you 
mustn’t think that I am always forlorn,” said Pamela, 
“only it is very hard sometimes for a girl to work out 
things all alone, and I really have no one to advise me.” 

“Sometimes I feel very lonely, too,” said Julia; and as 
Pamela’s hand touched hers in a mute response, she felt 
that they were now really going to understand each other. 

That very evening Julia wrote to Mrs. Had win, and so 
strong did she make her case that before the end of the 
week all the arrangements had been made, and Pamela 
was the engaged tutor for Teddy. Her term was to last 
three months from the last week in June, and Pamela was 
to accompany the family to the seashore. The change of 
air was in itself likely to be good for Pamela, and Julia 
congratulated herself on the sudden thought that had 
brought this piece of good luck to her friend. 

“Yet if Pamela had not been able to show such a fine 
record for her work in the classics, any effort of mine 
might have been perfectly useless.” 


XII 


HARVARD CLASS DAY 

Had Jane Townall stayed in Cambridge until Com- 
mencement, Julia might have had more interest in the 
Radcliffe Class Day. But illness in her family had called 
Jane home as soon as her examinations ended. 

“ I am sorry not to get my degree from the hands of the 
President at Commencement, but I ’m glad to escape the 
flurry of Class Day. I really could not afford the expense. 
I ’m coming back, though, for my Ph.D. sometime. I ’ll 
take that in person.” 

“There ’ll be no Radcliffe Ph.D. next year, nor yet the 
year after,” said Polly, shaking her head. 

“Oh, it will be years before I return,” responded Jane 
cheerfully. “ I must save the money first. By that time 
women will be receiving the Ph.D. from Harvard itself.” 

“Doubt it! ” cried Polly. 

“Well, I’d come back cheerfully for the two years of 
graduate study, even without the Ph.D. at the end.” 

“I ’m not with you there,” interposed Clarissa, who had 
joined the group. “When I’ve earned a Ph.D. I’ll try 
to get it.” 

“Then you wouldn’t have been a contented Annex 
graduate, with a certificate instead of a degree, stating 


116 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


that you had received an education the equivalent of 
that for which the degree of A.B. is given at Harvard 
College.” 

“Poor things!” replied Clarissa. “No, I couldn’t 
have borne all that they bore. I ’m not that kind of a 
pioneer. ” 

Jane had secured a fine position in an Indiana High 
School for the coming year, and her regrets at leaving 
Cambridge were mingled with pleasure at the prospect 
opening before her of having a fair income. 

Julia and Ruth returned to Cambridge the day before 
Harvard Class Day. As evening came they worried 
about a few overhanging clouds, yet when Friday came, 
the girls, looking through the trees shading their window, 
saw that it was a regular Class Day sky, blue, cloudless, 
while the air coming in over the casement was warm and 
sultry. 

“Julia,” cried Ruth at breakfast, “how can you be so 
calm? I feel as if I might be Brenda, I am so excited. 
I ’ve always longed for a real Harvard Class Day. I was 
only a little girl when my cousin Augustus was a Senior, 
and I remember how I stood about and watched his sisters 
dressing for his spread. Even a year in Cambridge 
hasn’t destroyed the glamour surrounding the day. Yes- 
terday, when I saw that the seats had been put up around 
the Tree, I felt that the curtain was about to be lifted from 
the show. You are too calm, Julia, you really are, and 
you have such a lovely dress ! ” 

“It is no lovelier than yours, Ruth. Come to my room 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 117 

when you are dressed; I am very anxious to see it on 
you.” 

The girls were now on their way upstairs, and when a 
half-hour later Ruth entered Julia’s room, each girl gave 
an exclamation of delight. A third person might have 
found it hard to tell which dress was the more beautiful, 
Julia’s white organdy, with its rows and rows of tiny lace- 
edged ruffles, or Ruth’s yellow muslin worn over a pale 
yellow slip. Ruth was a brunette with Irish blue eyes, 
and her yellow gown and leghorn hat with yellow crush 
roses was very becoming. Julia’s white hat had a pink 
lining, and was very becoming to her rather colorless type. 
“You look like a white rose just touched with pink,” 
exclaimed Ruth, in a rather unwonted vein of poetry. 

The two girls walked in a leisurely fashion to Fay 
House, where, according to the arrangements made by 
Mrs. Barlow, Toby Gostar, Nora’s younger brother, met 
them to escort them to Memorial Hall. Here in the 
Chapel Brenda and Nora and Mrs. Barlow were waiting. 

“We were so afraid that you would be late,” cried 
Brenda as they approached. “You know that our tickets 
won’t be good for anything after half-past ten. The 
doors are opened to the public then.” 

“As it is now only quarter-past ten, Brenda, your 
anxiety was rather misplaced, but as we are now all here 
we can hasten to our seats.” 

Mrs. Barlow, gathering up her voluminous skirts, mar- 
shalled her quartette to the narrow wicket gate through 
which so many, many thousands of persons have entered 


118 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Sanders Theatre, and up the broad stairs into the great 
amphitheatre. Toby stayed behind to take his chances 
with the ticketless throng, crowding around the outer 
door. 

“It’s like a garden,” said Ruth, gazing about on the 
rows of seats rising tier above tier, filled for the most part 
with young women and girls, whose light gowns and 
flower-trimmed hats gave the place the aspect of a flower 
garden. 

There were mothers there, of course, or an occasional 
father ; but on the whole the great interior was given up 
to girls, who fanned themselves and listened to the or- 
chestra, and wondered if it wasn’t almost time for 
the Class to appear. Very promptly at eleven o’clock the 
Class did appear, fresh from the service in Appleton 
Chapel and the breakfast at the President’s. The Mar- 
shals led the way, one of whom was Philip’s friend, Tom 
Hearst; and as the rest of the Seniors in cap and gown 
followed closely and took their places in the seats on the 
floor, every girl in the theatre tried to identify her own 
brother or cousin or friend. 

“It does seem too bad about Philip,” and Nora leaned 
over toward Julia; “besides, if he had n’t failed so, Edith 
would have been here. Just think of her near England at 
this very minute, when she ought to have been here.” 

“ I dare say that she is more comfortable at this very 
minute than we are. Only imagine how refreshing an 
ocean breeze would be blowing over our heads.” 

“ Oh, Julia, how terribly matter of fact you are! ” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


119 


Julia’s feelings, however, were deeper than her jesting 
words implied. In the group below, as she recognized 
one after another of Philip’s friends, she realized how 
much he was losing. There is only one Class Day for 
each undergraduate ; and although he may make up scho- 
lastic deficiencies, and get his degree with some other 
class, if he loses his Class Day, something has gone that 
can never be made up to him. 

So although Julia listened to the Oration with its re- 
view of the Class history and its promises for the future, 
although she gazed with admiration at the fluent Poet 
whose lofty lines were delivered in a rather feeble voice, 
although she laughed at the witticisms and local hits of 
the Ivy Oration (without always seeing the force of the 
joke), her thoughts sometimes were wandering far away. 
Indeed, it is to be feared that the last part of the Oration 
was lost upon her, for when the Class rose in a body to 
sing the Class Ode to the air of “Fair Harvard,” she was 
surprised to find that the first part of the Class Day 
programme was ended. Of course, like many others, 
Nora and Brenda and Julia and Ruth lingered to scan 
the scattering throng for familiar faces. Naturally, too, 
Tom and Will and other Seniors whom they knew came 
up to shake hands with them, and receive their congratu- 
lations on having reached this point in their career; and 
naturally, too, these same young men escorted Mrs. Bar- 
low and her charges first to the “ Pudding ” spread (where 
nothing resembling pudding was to be had, except, per- 
haps, the ice called frozen pudding), and then from the 


120 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“ Pudding ” to one or two private spreads, and then — why, 
then before they knew it it was four o’clock, and every 
one was wondering if it wasn’t almost time to go to the 
Tree. Where had the day gone ? 

“ Ah, here you are ! ” exclaimed a cheerful voice, as 
Nora and Julia stood on the lawn of Wadsworth House, a 
little tired, a little the worse for wear, holding their empty 
plates, and wondering how they had managed to lose sight 
of Mrs. Barlow and Brenda and Ruth. 

“ Oh, papa! ” cried Nora, for the cheerful voice belonged 
to Dr. Gostar. “ Oh, papa, I did n’t know that you were 
coming out. How delightful! Are you going to the 
Tree? But there, I suppose that you haven’t a ticket; 
they’re so very hard to get.” 

“Ticket!” and there was genuine merriment in Dr. 
Gostar’s laugh. “Why, you are forgetting who I am. 
I ’m a graduate, and Class Day belongs partly to the grad- 
uates. At least, the Tree part of it does.” 

“ Oh, then we ’ll see you there. What fun ! ” 

“ You ’ll hear me certainly. Really, I ought to be 
saving myself now for the cheering. But I met Mrs. 
Barlow just outside; she had to go with Brenda and Ruth 
to Matthews for a little while. Elmer Robson was with 
them; there was something in his room that he was 
anxious to show Brenda. Mrs. Barlow felt that she could 
go when I promised to take you under my wing. We are 
to meet in Stoughton, where Will Harden has a room 
looking out on the Tree.” 

“But I thought that his rooms were in Holworthy?” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


121 


“ So they are. But he thought that it would be pleas- 
ant for his guests to have a room to rest in before going to 
the Tree and near it. By the way, we have no time to 
spare,” looking at his watch. “If you are ready, young 
ladies, I shall be happy to escort you, although I ’m rather 
surprised that you haven’t some younger cavalier.” 

“Well, papa, we have had, but you see the Seniors 
have all gone off now to dress for the Tree, and even 
Toby, after he had gone with us to one or two spreads, 
seemed to grow restless. I suppose he thinks there ’d be 
more fun with some of his classmates. There are a few 
undergraduates hanging about on the outskirts of things.” 

“I hope that he hasn’t neglected you.” 

“Oh, no, indeed” — Julia was the speaker — “oh, no 
indeed, he has been remarkably entertaining. He pointed 
out all kinds of amusing college personages, and cleared 
the way for us through several crowds, and saw that our 
plates were heaped with ices, and altogether has been very 
helpful. ” 

“He really has, papa,” added Nora. “You see the 
Seniors can pay little attention to any single person, they 
have so many to look after. It ’s the greatest fun to see 
them trying to be equally attentive to half a dozen per- 
sons at once when all the time they ’re dying to talk to 
some one person by herself. Even Will Harden, who 
seldom is disturbed, was half beside himself. He hadn’t 
had a chance for a word with Ruth, and wherever he was 
to-day there were three tall, thin cousins of his from New 
York who wished to know about everything and to see 


122 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


everything, and who hardly left his side for a moment. I 
think that Ruth was disappointed, too.” 

“Why, Nora!” and Julia shook her head in disap- 
proval. But Dr. Gostar was too much absorbed in the 
scenes in the Yard to notice this speech of Nora’s. 

“ Why, papa, you seem to see a great many people you 
know.” 

“ I certainly do, daughter ; that is one of the charms of 
Class Day. Presently I may run upon some old classmate 
whom I have not seen for twenty-five years. He is here 
escorting his daughters; and although my head is gray, 
and his may be bald, we shall rush into each other’s arms 
and — ” 

“Why, who is he, papa?” cried Nora, without realizing 
that she was interrupting. 

“Oh, I haven’t the least idea; the particular man does 
not matter. It will be some one with whom I can renew 
my youth. Why, if it was n’t for Class Day some of us 
old fellows would forget that we had ever been young.” 

“ Why, papa, nobody considers you old. I heard Mrs. 
Everlie the other day call you a perfect boy.” 

“I certainly feel like one to-day, escorting two fair 
damsels through the College Yard.” 

“Oh, listen! listen!” cried Julia, as the sound of gruff 
huzzas came to them. 

“They have begun to cheer the buildings; you know 
that that is the ceremony, — a pause before each old build- 
ing, and a loud cheer for it, — the Seniors’ farewell to 
Harvard.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 123 

They had now almost reached Stoughton, pushing their 
way through the crowd. On the steps of University Hall 
and other buildings, rows of people were seated, who evi- 
dently were mere sight-seers, without any real connection 
with the Class. There were small boys and girls among 
them, and men and women in holiday dress, evidently 
sight-seers from the City. In the throng hurrying across 
the Yard there were now a good many undergraduates, 
and anxious chaperons trying to collect their charges, and 
pretty girls in delicate dresses hurrying toward the Tree 
enclosure. 

From the door of Stoughton Dr. Gostar and his party 
hastened upstairs to the upper room which had been se- 
cured for them. It was a large, square, old-fashioned 
room, furnished rather more simply than those occupied 
by Philip and Will in Holworthy, and it was far plainer 
than the elegant apartments of Tom Hears t in Claverly. 

As the others had not yet arrived, Julia and Nora tip- 
toed around, looking at the curious gray and blue steins 
on the mantle-piece, the fencing foils and masks on the 
wall, the two or three old colored prints of stage coach 
and sporting scenes. 

“Hm, hm,” cried Nora, “whoever he is, the classics 
do not occupy all his time. Just look at those member- 
ship certificates; he seems to belong to every athletic 
society in the college. And his books, where are his 
books ? ” 

“Why, here,” cried Julia, “on this shelf behind the 
door. There are a whole dozen of them; ” and Nora, step- 


124 BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 

ping forward, read off their titles, which proved, by the 
way, to be the titles almost entirely of college text-books. 

“But, my dear, you mustn’t expect them all to be book 
worms; it takes every kind of individual to make up a 
college, just as in the outside world,” remonstrated Dr. 
Gostar in answer to Nora’s gibes at the non -literary taste 
of the owner of this room. 

Before more could be said, Mrs. Barlow and Ruth and 
Brenda appeared, attended by Toby and another under- 
graduate, who was introduced as the owner of the room. 
The latter was a mild-mannered, young-looking Junior, 
not at all the athletic individual — at least in appearance 
— whom the girls had pictured from the trophies and 
other adornments of the room. 

“There, Mrs. Barlow, I hand my charges over to you,” 
and Dr. Gostar hurried off to join the Alumni around the 
Tree. In a few minutes Mrs. Barlow and the others fol- 
lowed, leaving the room in Stoughton to some other guests 
of Will’s, who were to watch the Tree exercises from the 
windows. 

Already the throng in the Yard was crowding toward 
the Tree enclosure, and the ticket holders had hard work 
to thread their way among curious by-standers. Within 
the enclosure the sun beat down hotly, except in one 
corner where the brick walls of the neighboring buildings 
cast a shade. Following the boys, Mrs. Barlow and the 
girls scrambled up over the rough wooden benches, — “ just 
like circus seats,” said Nora, — and at last, a little out 
of breath, and with many apologies to those whom they 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


125 


disturbed in their progress, they reached their own 
places. 

Now, although Brenda and her friends did not then 
realize it, these Tree exercises were to have a peculiar 
interest from being almost the last under the walls of 
Stoughton. ’ The space was too limited for the thousands 
who felt that they had a right to be spectators, and already 
plans were making for a change of place and a somewhat 
different performance. 

As the Alumni came in, taking position some distance 
from the Tree, the girls caught sight of Dr. Gostar and 
two or three sedate Bostonians of his age seating them- 
selves on the grass, and looking as cheerful and merry 
as the youngest undergraduate there. The Alumni had 
marched within the enclosure with a band of music at the 
head, and then had followed the Freshmen, with the 
Sophomores second and the Juniors last. Each formed a 
separate circle around the Tree, and when the signal was 
given all rose and cheered lustily for every college offi- 
cial from the President to John the Orangeman. The 
Chief Marshal, a tall, handsome fellow, led the cheering, 
and at last at a given signal the students in each circle, 
joining hands, whirled at a mad rate around the Tree. 
When they had sung the Class Ode, the Marshal threw 
his hat against the Tree, and then the wild scramble for 
the flowers began. It was difficult for those who knew 
them best to recognize their especial Seniors in the shock- 
ing bad clothes and old hats that they wore. But many a 
mother, when she discovered her boy, was sure that he 


126 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


must come away with broken limbs, if he escaped alive 
from the wild scrimmage. They pommelled one another, 
formed themselves into human ladders, flung one another 
off from the sides of the Tree. Yet strange to say, no one 
received serious injury, and the few who reached the 
glowing wreath were loudly cheered, even by those who 
thought the whole affair rather brutal. Those who 
stripped the wreath from the Tree flung the fragments 
down among their classmates, and in the end nearly every 
one had a flower or two as a memento. As Tom and 
Will pressed through the crowd with fairly large bou- 
quets — at least they could be seen by Brenda and her 
friends — the girls wondered if any of the trophies should 
pass to them. While they stood for a moment waiting a 
chance to pass down to the Yard, Mrs. Barlow pointed 
out one distinguished person after another among the 
spectators at the Tree, including the British Minister, the 
Secretary of the Navy, the Governor of New York, and 
innumerable literary and professional men of note. Many 
of them undoubtedly were there as relatives of Seniors, 
and some probably found it a distinction to be the father 
of a boy who was the idol of his class for this thing or that, 
— athletics and social graces sometimes ranking ahead of 
scholarship. 

When Will and Tom reached Mrs. Barlow’s group their 
flowers were rather impartially distributed among the four, 
and the boys hurried on to array themselves in proper 
Senior garb. They all met again at the Beck spread, and 
from that they went to one or two smaller teas, sitting in 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


127 


windows that overlooked the quadrangle until the Yard 
had been illuminated. 

“Fairyland only faintly describes it,” said Julia, look- 
ing at the wonderful labyrinth of lanterns and colored 
lights shining above the crowds in gay attire threading 
the paths, or seated on the grass. 

Julia was loath to leave the scene even for a glimpse of 
the dancers in Memorial and the Gymnasium. When an 
opportunity therefore came for her to go back to the rooms 
in Hoi worthy under Toby’s protection, she was glad 
enough to go. She was a little tired now, and did not 
sit in the window, and when Toby seemed restless, she 
advised him to go back to Memorial, as she would be per- 
fectly comfortable in the easychair that he had drawn up 
for her. She added that she would not be at all lonely. 

Hardly had Toby left her when a familiar voice fell on 
her ear. 

“ Toby told me that you were in here, Julia, but where 
are you ? ” 

Julia rose from the easychair, the deep back of which 
hid her from view. 

“ Why, Philip ! How in the world do you happen to be 
here? I thought — ” 

“No, I haven’t actually left this part of the world. 
I ’ve been down to the shore for a day or two getting my 
things together. I ’m off to-night by the midnight train. 
But I couldn’t resist a glance at Class Day. Besides,” 
a trifle less defiantly, “I thought that I might see you, 
Julia.” 


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“Oh, yes,” replied Julia, “we’re all here, Ruth and 
Brenda and Nora; they’ll be coming back from Memorial 
after a while.” 

“ Oh, I ’ll be out of the way before that. I made Toby 
swear not to say a word about me. No, I didn’t expect 
really to see any one, though I hoped that I might run 
across you.” 

“I’m awfully sorry that things have gone badly with 
you, but next year — ” 

“No, I’m not coming back next year, noram I going 
to cry about spilled milk. What’s the good? Nobody 
really cares what becomes of a fellow. Of course a family 
is mortified when he does n’t get his degree, and I ’ve had 
it heavy enough from my father for the money he ’s had to 
put up for me. But you are a sensible girl, Julia, and 
I ’ve wanted to tell you that in many ways you ’ve done 
me a lot of good. Sometime, perhaps, I may show you 
that I ’ve profited by some of your advice.” 

“I ’ve never given you any real advice.” 

“ Indeed you have. Of course I ’ve had it from other 
people, too. But you ’ve said some things that really 
have made an impression. But there, what ’s the use of 
talking? Sometime you’ll see that I ’m not as black as 
I ’m painted. So now I must be off, for I ’ve some things 
to attend to in the Square, and I don’t want the others to 
find me here. There ’d be such a beastly lot of explain- 
ing,” and so with a sudden farewell, Philip hurried out of 
the room. Julia, looking from the window, followed him 
for a moment until he was lost in the crowd. At this 


BKENDA*S COUSIN AT BADCLIFFE 


129 


moment the Glee Club, stationed on the green, sang “ Fair 
Harvard,” and Julia wondered if the pathetic music struck 
Philip’s ears with the sadness with which it fell on hers. 

Not long after this Mrs. Barlow and the girls appeared. 
The latter were by no means ready to go home, tired 
though they were after their long day. But Mrs. Barlow 
was firm; and in spite of the protests of Tom and Will 
and one or two others, they left the Yard before half -past 
ten. 


XIII 


VAKIOUS AMBITIONS 

The summer passed quickly away, as vacations have a 
fashion of doing, even when one is young, and J ulia and 
Ruth and Polly and Clarissa and Lois and all the other 
college friends met again in October, well and happy. 
Polly had been at Atlantic City, Clarissa had joined her 
family at the White Mountains, Pamela had been on the 
South Shore with her pupil, Nora had spent the summer 
in Maine. Lois alone of this group of friends had had 
practically no change of scene ; she had stayed in Newton 
all summer, and yet she returned to college looking as 
bright as any of the others. J ulia’s summer does not form 
properly a part of her Radcliffe days, and yet it is only fair 
to say that Julia’s summer had been somewhat different 
from what might have been prophesied in June. The 
first weeks had been spent in attendance on her Aunt 
Anna, who had fallen ill with a slow fever in the early 
spring. When she was better the doctor had ordered 
a complete change of air, with the result that Mr. and 
Mrs. Barlow and the two girls had made a tour of the 
British Provinces. Coming back to college from so many 
points of the compass, the Sophomores all had naturally 
much to tell. They registered themselves promptly on 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


131 


the first Thursday of the term ; they chose their electives 
and changed their minds as often as the authorities would 
permit. They studied the notices on the bulletin board 
and the schedule of recitations, and advised one another in 
tones much more confident than a year ago. They did 
their part at the Freshman reception to make the incoming 
class feel perfectly at home, and they began to develop a 
class spirit. Now “ class spirit ” is something which had 
only just begun to develop at Radcliffe, and indeed at this 
time some of the upper class girls, absorbed in their work, 
were disinclined to believe that it had an existence. 
Different things were contributing to this class feeling. 
One was the increasing interest in athletics. Each class 
had its basket ball team and its own athletes, or gymnasts 
as perhaps we ought to say, in whose triumphs it took a 
genuine pride. Clarissa had come to the front as one of 
the best athletes of her class, and the Sophomores with her 
help expected to lead in the spring meet. Julia, too, 
found herself suddenly conspicuous from a very simple 
thing, or at least it seemed simple to her. She had always 
had some talent for musical composition, and had studied 
Composition before entering Radcliffe. But the course in 
Harmony under the distinguished head of the Music 
Department had been a revelation to her, and she had 
begun to venture on little flights of her own. One of her 
songs, a setting of William Watson’s, “ Tell me not now,” 
Polly had picked up as it lay in manuscript on her desk. 
Now Polly had a sweet, bird-like voice, and she rushed to 
the piano and trilled off : 


132 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“ Tell me not now, if love for love 
Thou canst return, 

Now while around us and above 
Day’s flambeaux burn. 

Not in clear noon, with speech as clear, 

Thy heart avow. 

For every gossip wind to hear ; 

Tell me not now.” 

Julia herself, as she listened, found her own music more 
interesting than she had imagined it. Polly, when she had 
finished, turned around with an amused expression : 

“Well, well, I am perfectly surprised that you are so 
sentimental, Julia Bourne.” 

“ Oh, nonsense 1 ” responded Julia, “ but you sing it like 
an angel.” 

“ Yes,” said Polly, “ this time I ’ll accept the compli- 
ment without protest, for with your leave (or without it) 
I ’m going to sing this at the next Idler. I ’ve been 
asked to sing something, and I ’ll take care to let every one 
know that you are the composer of this sentimental ode. 
You! the stern person who used to frown on me last 
spring when I wanted to go to Riverside on canoe expedi- 
tions that meant a solitude d deux. Ah, Julia, this song 
shows that you are human like the rest of us ; ” and Polly 
held high above her head the manuscript that J ulia tried 
to seize. 

Thus Julia made her first appearance before her fellow- 
students as a composer, for Polly sang “ Tell me not 
now” with great effect that Friday afternoon; and Julia, 
who hitherto had had comparatively few acquaintances 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


133 


outside of her special set, now found herself an object of 
interest to the whole club. 

“The next thing,” said Ruth, with genuine pride in 
Julia’s triumph, “the next thing we’ll have you compos- 
ing an operetta.” 

“Nonsense!” cried Julia. “An operetta! I couldn’t 
do it.” 

“Why not? Three or four operettas have been com- 
posed and given by Radcliffe girls with great success. 
Why, I came out with my mother the year ‘Copper 
Complications ’ was given, and I never saw anything more 
entertaining in my life. What one girl can accomplish 
another can, I mean if she has the same kind of talent. 
Why, there have been several Radcliffe operettas — ‘Prin- 
cess Perfection,’ ‘ Copper Complications.’ ” 

The urgings of Polly and Ruth, however, might not have 
led Julia to take up the work had not the Emmanuel Society 
needed funds. It had committed itself to assist in main- 
taining a reading-room at the North End for working girls, 
and its expenses had been heavier than the first estimates. 
In no way could money be so readily raised as through an 
operetta, and as Julia was especially interested in this 
Society, she at last consented to see what she could do. 

“ For any one with talent like yours it is n’t so very 
hard,” said Polly persuasively. “ Ruth and I will help 
you with the book, and then you must have some good 
soprano solos - — for me — and some manly contralto solos, 
probably for Clarissa, if we can only get her to take them ; 
and then there must be a soubrette song or two — we ’ll 


134 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


find the soubrette, and there must be a man’s funny part, 
like Charles River, the ‘ winter man ’ in ‘ Copper Compli- 
cations,’ ” and Polly spun round the room, singing ; 

“ Now since men are always busy in this lovely summer time, 

I get ray little innings when I can, 

As I wanted to offset a bit the summer girl’s eclat, 

I call myself a winter man. 

I drive out, I dine out at functions divine, 

At parties I dance with the belle of the ball. 

It is in the winter I have my good time.” 

Oh, no indeed ! ” interrupted Ruth. “ Julia’s opera 
will have no frivolous Charles River. Her hero, I ’m sure, 
will be a most serious person with high purpose.” 

“ And a low voice, that is, low for an alto,” cried the 
irrepressible Polly. 

“ There,” said Julia, smiling, “as my part is to be so 
small, I need not have hesitated about undertaking it. 
You are arranging for the words and the speakers, and the 
music is only — ” 

“Now, Julia, of course the music ^s the thing, the chief 
thing, but there ’s a certain type of song that ’s taking, and 
we have to think what will best suit our prima donnas, 
when once we have secured them. You have no idea how 
shy they are. I shouldn’t care to be the business manager 
of this affair,” and Polly flung herself on the couch, while 
the others laughed at her affected melancholy. 

Yet in spite of this badinage, the girls of Julia’s group, 
as well as some others with special literary or dramatic 
talent, began to work for the success of the operetta. The 


BRENDAS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


135 


music was left entirely to Julia; but the libretto, or 
“ book ” as they all preferred to call it, was to be a com- 
posite production. The sentimental lyrics were nearly all 
assigned to Ruth ; the comic words for the most part grew. 
Girls are more considerate than boys. Their jokes are 
seldom “grinds” on the professors, and they are even 
fairly tender toward the various branches of a college cur- 
riculum. The gibes, therefore, of Radcliffe plays were 
more apt to be directed toward local faults, such as muddy 
sidewalks and dusty streets. 

Yet after all, the operetta was entirely secondary to 
regular college work. Hardly a girl in Julia’s class sought 
the name of “ grind,” and few deserved it. The absence 
of the dormitory system, the very fact that many Radcliffe 
students reside with their parents while attending college, 
makes for a normal life in which home interests and so- 
ciety have their place as well as study. This is as it 
should be, and is not to be criticised unless a girl assumes 
too many social duties in addition to her college obligations. 

The autumn calendar was marked by several events of 
special significance to the Sophomores. Not the least of 
these was the class election, in which Julia and Ruth took 
more part than in that of the preceding year. There 
happened to be in their class about twenty girls from a 
large preparatory school, — a public High School, — and 
these girls had been a power at the Freshman elections. 
Indeed, so certain was their ticket to be elected that the 
rest of the class had put up few candidates. By this 
second autumn, however, the situation had changed some- 


136 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


what. Girls like Julia and Ruth, who had entered with 
none of the advantages of a backing of comrades, were 
now pretty well known. The Freshman Class President 
proved unpopular, and had shown so little special ability 
that not even her personal friends favored her re-election. 
Several were anxious to have Clarissa a candidate, and the 
friends of Annabel Harmon intended to put her up. 
Somewhat to Julia’s surprise she found Ruth favoring 
Annabel. The latter had been a Special, until late in the 
year she had become a Freshman. Annabel was a pleasing 
girl, able to talk eloquently on any subject, — so eloquently 
that those who looked beneath the surface sometimes 
doubted her knowledge of the things she talked the most 
about. Julia, reproaching herself for unfairness, disliked 
having Ruth so intimate with Annabel. 

Julia championed Clarissa as a candidate, because she 
saw that the W estern girl was a born leader, and because 
she admired her frank, open nature. 

“I object to Clarissa,” Ruth had said, “because she 
makes so many foolish jokes. She does n’t seem to me to 
represent the class properly. Now, Annabel is always dig- 
nified, and college girls are so criticised that one who is 
conspicuous ought to be conventional.” 

Julia perceived that Ruth was already under Annabel’s 
influence. She was a year or two older than the average 
Freshman. This was not due to lack of ability, but to 
her having decided rather late on a college course. She 
had entered at the beginning of February — just after the 
mid-years in the winter before Ruth and Julia entered 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


137 


Radcliffe. She was rather proud of having become a reg- 
ular Sophomore ; and indeed for a girl of Annabel’s rather 
indolent disposition, this was something to be proud of. 
Only a girl of her egotism would have aspired so early in 
her career to become Class President. Julia felt almost 
positive that Annabel could not succeed, but Annabel her- 
self knew better. She had begun to work for the office 
the preceding year. What had been the meaning of the 
little luncheons that she had given from time to time, to 
which she had bidden not only her intimates, but those 
girls most likely to be of use to her? As she was not a 
Freshman then, they may not have suspected her motives ; 
but the little luncheons, and the lending of valuable books, 
and the flattering letters written at just the right time, and, 
above all, a manner which said to each one to whom she 
was talking, “You really are the cleverest girl in the class, 
and I wish that other people had the good sense to find it 
out,” — all these things had done their work ; and when 
the ballots were counted. Miss Harmon was President, and 
Clarissa Herter had no office. Ruth had been the only 
candidate for Secretary, and the office of Vice-President 
had gone to a Latin School girl. It could n’t be said that 
there was much feeling over the election, or anything 
approaching dissension. Yet two or three who, like Julia, 
were dissatisfied felt that Annabel did not deserve so 
marked an honor. The sharper-sighted had seen too much 
of her wire pulling. Nevertheless, a little later when the 
Sophomores had their class luncheon, even those who did 
not especially like her had to admit that Annabel made a 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


charming presiding officer, and as toast mistress (though 
the toasts were drunk only in cold water) she was, as the 
newspapers might have said, “ particularly felicitous.’^ 

Soon after the class luncheon the Sophomores gave the 
Freshmen a dance in the Auditorium. Although girls 
danced with girls and no masculine person was present 
(except the youth who assisted in moving the furniture), 
all said that they had enjoyed it as much as if it had been a 
co-educational affair (this was Clarissa’s general term for 
the occasional affairs in which Harvard and Radcliffe 
students mingled). Even Pamela was seen in some of the 
square dances, with a pretty little Freshman. The prin- 
ciples of the little Freshman as well as her ignorance of 
waltzing prevented her dancing anything but the lancers 
and Portland fancy. So while the others were whirling 
in the waltz, or leaping through some of the more modern 
dances, Pamela and the Freshman, in Clarissa’s words, 
“carried on a desperate flirtation.” 

Prosperity had agreed with Pamela ; she looked stronger, 
and her cheeks had more color than formerly. Although 
she still lived at Miss Batson’s, and although the loud 
colors of the furniture and the loud manners of the 
boarders still grated on her nerves, she found the work 
that she had to do less burdensome than in her Freshman 
year. The money earned by her summer of tutoring 
sufficed to pay more than half the tuition fee of her Sopho- 
more year; and to keep her young pupil up to the mark, 
she had been engaged to go to him twice a week during 
the school year. Thus all her tuition fees were more 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


139 


than provided for. Although she had not secured the 
scholarship on account of the number of competitors, an 
allowance had been made her by the Students’ Aid Societ3^ 
She could thus see that she could make both ends meet for 
the year, and as to the future, she felt sure that she could 
provide for that when the time came. Pamela, though 
always independent and persevering, since coming to 
Cambridge had acquired a hopefulness formerly unknown. 
To this extent, if in no other way, she had felt the broad- 
ening influence of Radcliffe, — or shall we say of the 
great University under whose shadow lies the woman’s 
college ? 

At the Open Idler, Pamela wore a pretty pale pink 
gown of soft veiling, simply made, but extremely becom- 
ing. Julia found it hard to get Pamela to accept this 
simple gift. She had thought at first of a subterfuge, of 
pretending that the gown had been made for her, and 
that because of the dressmaker’s mistake she had had to 
discard it. But on second thought she decided that 
frankness was the best. When she found that Pamela 
had decided not to go to the Idler because she had no 
suitable gown, she brought forward the one that she had 
had made. 

“ How pretty it is ! What an exquisite color, and so 
simple I ” 

“ Yes,” Julia had responded, “ and it is for you ! I 
had it made because I knew that you could n’t pos- 
sibly attend to anything so frivolous, with all that you 
have to do this year. If you do not wear it, it shall 


140 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


hang in my closet until the moths eat it. Come try it 
on I ’’ 

So almost before she realized what she was doing, 
Pamela had arrayed herself in the pretty, soft, clinging 
gown, and as she looked in the long mirror she hardly 
recognized herself. “ If I could pay for it,’’ she mur- 
mured, “if you would let me.” 

“ Why, yes,” responded Julia, “ certainly, in five years 
or twenty years, whenever you can do it as well as not, I 
shall be happy to let you pay for it. Of course I would 
rather make it a present. But if you prefer, I will accept 
payment for it any time after five years — not before. 
That will be so much clear gain for me. For if you 
should not take the gown it would hang in my closet 
until the moths had made way with it.” 

“ Oh, Julia, what nonsense I ” And then Pamela, though 
seldom voluble, expressed her gratitude very warmly. 
Hoping to pay for it in the future, she was very glad to 
accept the gown ; and J ulia, observing Pamela so perfectly 
at ease, — such wonders will good clothes work, — felt 
more than repaid for her forethought. 

This Open Idler of their Sophomore year happened 
to be the first one for Julia and Ruth. They had mot sent 
many cards of invitation, but a few of their friends came 
out from Boston, and pushed their way through crowds of 
gaily gowned girls to the large room where the Sopho- 
mores received their friends. Among these were Nora 
and her mother. 

“ I ’m not sure, Julia, that it is safe to bring Nora here. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


141 


Already she has begun to talk about coming to college, 
and what I have seen here to-night makes college life 
seem too attractive.” 

“ But why ‘ too attractive ’ ? ” 

“Ah, Julia, I am one of those old-fashioned persons 
who cannot quite see the wisdom of a college education 
for girls. Of course I would not wish Nora to consider 
her education finished simply because she has left school. 
Indeed, I have had her continue several of her studies ; but 
she owes something to society, and college cuts a girl off 
so from social life.” 

“ But we have social life here — and masculine society, 
too,” she concluded with a smile. 

“ Yes, indeed,” responded Mrs. Gostar, glancing around 
the room, in which Harvard students were almost as 
numerous as Radcliffe girls. Standing in corners, seated 
on divans, walking toward the refreshment tables, were 
youths and maidens enjoying one another’s society to the 
same extent as if in a crowded ball-room. The walls were 
bright with orange and white festoons, — the class colors. 
A touch of crimson twined across the end of the room 
where the year of the class was inscribed showed the 
connection with Harvard. Rugs on the floor, tall palms 
in the corners, great vases of primroses, and bands of 
yellow ribbon on the refreshment tables, had transformed 
the plain recitation room into a bower of beauty. Each 
class had a room to itself, similarly decorated, and there 
was one for the Specials. Downstairs the officers of the 
Idler, the Dean of the college, and the Secretary received 


142 


BKENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


the guests, who were introduced individually by ushers. 
There was a table with refreshments in the parlor ; there 
were refreshments and an orchestra in the Auditorium; 
there were, as Polly said, “ t^te-a-tetes unlimited ” in the 
Library and in the recitation rooms ; and any one whose 
knowledge of Radcliffe was obtained first through an 
“ Open Idler ” would have pronounced it the most frivolous 
of institutions. 

Tom Hearst, now in the Law School, and one or two 
other friends of Philip’s accepted the invitations sent them 
by Ruth and Julia. The latter would have liked to ask 
some questions about Philip, for not a word had come to 
her directly since that Class Day evening. He was in her 
thoughts constantly, but she would not say a word. 


XIV 


IN DISGUISE 

** Learned Sophomores ! full of information, 

* Yes, we know it all,’ your manner seems to say. 

Learned Sophomores ! In each generation, 

Sophomores will be Sophomores in the same old way.” 

Thus under her breath Clarissa, from her seat in the 
Auditorium, hummed a strain from a Radcliffe song. Girls 
were gathering in the room to witness an Idler play. 

“ Sometime,” said Clarissa, “ I ’ll be a Senior, and have 
a front seat. But if you can’t have the first, the fifth row 
is n’t so very bad.” 

While waiting for the play to begin, the girls in Clarissa’s 
neighborhood chatted gaily. The play had attracted many 
of the Alumnae, because it was the work of a Radcliffe girl 
who had been out of college a year or two. They waited 
a little impatiently, for the Auditorium was really over- 
crowded, with girls sitting on the steps and leaning on the 
ledges of the windows leading into the conversation room. 

“ Oh, I do wish that they would begin I ” 

“ Why can’t girls ever do anything on time ? It is so 
uncomfortable sitting in this stuffy room ! ” 

These and other murmurs came from various parts of 
the Auditorium. It was certainly much past the hour, and 


144 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


yet the curtain did not rise. At last the President came 
forward. “ I must ask your indulgence,” she said, as she 
stood in front of the curtain. “ Something has gone 
wrong with the curtain, we cannot raise it ; but while we 
are waiting for a carpenter. Miss Harmon has kindly 
consented to read.” At this there was much applause, 
for Annabel had a well-trained voice, and sufficient self- 
confidence to make whatever she did very effective. 
Accordingly, she came forward attired in a white muslin 
gown, pale blue sash, and a leghorn hat lined with blue. 
She was to wear the costume in the play, and no one 
could deny that it was most becoming. Annabel read in a 
plaintive tone. She read old ballads and modern love 
songs, two of each, and the audience applauded most 
heartily. Then she tried a bolder flight, a dramatic mono- 
logue, and still her hearers were enthusiastic. She bowed 
her thanks, smiled, and then a movement of the curtain was 
seen. Annabel stood there unconscious of anything but 
the audience before her. There was a vigorous clapping 
of hands from a distant corner. 

“ Why, that sounds like a m£oi, does n’t it ? ” said a girl 
behind Julia, leaning over toward her. Just then a huge 
bunch of carnations fell at Annabel’s feet with a heavy thud, 
as if thrown by some one used to handling missiles. Again 
Annabel smiled and courtesied, and again the audience 
applauded, with one pair of hands sounding louder than 
the rest. 

Clarissa looked at her watch, and closed the cover with 
a snap. 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 145 

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have the play begin; we 
did n’t come to a reading.” 

The Idler President again appeared in front of the 
curtain and said something to Annabel. The latter, smil- 
ing pleasantly, opened a book. The curtain rose behind 
her, with the stage set for the play; but she began to 
read again, slowly and with great expression, while in the 
background the heads of various girls were seen peering 
from behind the scenes, evidently impatient for Annabel 
to stop. 

Some of the audience, with a sense of the ridiculous, 
began to laugh, but Annabel was unconscious of every- 
thing but the applause. She stood as if waiting an encore. 

“ Is it a wonder,” whispered Julia to Clarissa, “ that she 
got the Class Presidency ? I believe that she hypnotizes 
people.” 

“ Ah, she reads like — like — a bird,” said Clarissa 
magnanimously. 

“ You could n’t honestly say ‘like an angel,’ ” said Julia, 
and Clarissa shook her head. 

How long this unpremeditated performance might have 
continued no one can say. Before Annabel could recite 
again the President came forward, announcing firmly that 
the play was to begin. On Annabel’s face as she withdrew 
there was a decidedly aggrieved expression. Nevertheless, 
when she appeared in the play she looked as cheerful as 
her wont, and said her lines in a melodious voice. Ruth 
was a middle-aged Englishwoman, with a becoming lace 
cap. The girl who played a man’s part wore high boots 

10 


146 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


and a long drab coat, the skirts of which came below the 
tops of her boots. 

The setting was good, the dialogue bright, and the audi- 
ence at last dispersed with the feeling that the whole per- 
formance had been a great success. 

“Who was that tall girl who passed us?’’ asked Julia, 
when the play was over. 

“ I am sure I do not know, at least I did not notice her.” 

“I always feel,” Julia continued, “as if all the Alumnae 
are acquainted. But I can see that it would be hard for 
them all to know one another. The girl that I speak of 
was tall and rather awkward, and she pushed her way 
through the crowd without speaking to a soul.” 

“ Oh, she may have been a friend of some one in the 
play. Each was allowed to invite a guest from outside. 
Somebody told me that Annabel Harmon thought that 
they might have been permitted to ask men.” 

“Yes, because she thought that she would look partic- 
ularly fetching. For a sensible girl, she is certainly almost 
as vain as they make them.” 

“ What is the objection to men spectators ? The costumes 
are harmless enough, compared with what they were in my 
day,” said the graduate. 

“ Only that it ’s against the rule,” replied a J unior. “ But 
in your day the girls who played men’s parts used to wear 
real clothes, did n’t they ? ” 

“ Yes, real clothes,” and all laughed at the undergrad- 
uate’s slip. 

“ Yes, men’s real clothes,” the graduate added, “ bor- 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


147 


rowed usually from some brother or cousin at the Univer- 
sity. Really, some girls made up wonderfully like Harvard 
men.” 

“ I should like to have seen them. I hate our present 
stage dress for men ; it is neither ancient nor modern.” 

“ Yet it ’s YQTj proper ! ” interposed Clarissa sarcastically. 
She had just joined the group. 

“ But why was manly attire given up ? Since only girls 
saw the plays, it couldn’t have done any great harm.” 

“ Oh, it was a man who spoiled it all, you know ; they 
deserve their reputation of marplots. I can’t vouch for the 
story, but they say that a Senior who came once to an 
Open Idler thought it necessary to express his gratifica- 
tion to some one in authority.” 

“No one could find fault with that.” 

“No, but he was awkward. ‘I ’m delighted to be here,’ 
he said, ‘ for I ’ve often hoped to visit Radcliffe. My 
clothes have been here many times at the Idler dra- 
matics, but this is the first opportunity that I have had for 
coming myself.’ ” 

“ What a stupid creature ! ” 

“ Well, it seems he had a sister in Radcliffe who was in 
the habit of borrowing his clothes. He had a rather small 
and neat figure, and a large wardrobe, so that he could be 
drawn upon for almost any kind of dress. The rule, how- 
ever, was made immediately after this speech of his that 
men’s costumes were not to be worn at our performances, 
and great was the lamentation.” 

“It isn’t as bad as it used to be,” said another; “we can 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


wear a kind of man’s dress now, provided that the coat has 
a skirt effect. It is n’t exactly an up-to-date costume, but 
it is fairly picturesque.” 

“ And to think,” interposed Clarissa, in a tragic tone, 
“that at the Pudding plays, or indeed at the Cercle 
Frangaise, or anything else at Harvard, the boys can put on 
ballet costumes or any dress that a woman might or 
mightn’t wear.” 

“ There ’s no equality of rights, even in so frivolous a 
thing as theatricals,” cried one of the girls in mock sor- 
row. “ Why, Polly, why are you so late ? You ’ve missed 
some fun.” 

“ I ’m sorry, but I had to go to the City this afternoon. 
I suppose the play was fun. But I ’ve just seen some- 
thing quite as funny,” and Polly began to smile at the 
remembrance. 

“ Oh, tell us, Polly, for if there is anything funny to be 
seen, you are sure to see it.” 

“ Well, I met a girl at the head of Garden Street smoking 
a big meerschaum pipe.” 

“ That is n’t funny, it ’s pathetic I ” 

“ She must have been ashamed, for when she saw me 
she tried to put the pipe in her pocket.” 

“ How ridiculous ! ” 

“ Then she could n’t find the pocket, and so she started 
to put the pipe back in her mouth. It was clear that 
either she was n’t used to pipes — or to dresses.” 

“Why, Polly!” 

“ So I asked Frank Everton, who was with me — no, he 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


149 


had n’t been in town with me, I only met him in the 
Square — I asked him to follow her into the college 
grounds. She crossed the street at a trot when she saw us 
coming, and it seemed to me that she was making for 
Weld Hall.” 

All the girls in the group were now thoroughly in- 
terested. 

“ Consequently I stood at the corner of Appian Way 
until Frank came back with his report, and — ” 

Here Polly paused to note the effect of her words. 

“Well, well, what was it ? ” asked the impatient listeners. 

“ Well, it was Loring Bradshaw. Frank followed him to 
his room, where he tore off his skirts. He had forgotten 
that he was masquerading as a woman when he lit his 
pipe. You see it was in the pocket of the waistcoat which 
he wore beneath his cape. I had recognized him almost 
immediately ; you know he has a funny little scar under his 
eye, and then that manly stride ! Even in Cambridge you 
wouldn’t see a girl with a gait like that.” 

“But why was he parading in woman’s clothes? Was 
it a college bet?” 

“ Oh, I have n’t heard the whole story yet. Frank came 
back in a hurry because he had left me standing there.” 

“ What kind of a hat did he wear ? ” asked Julia with 
interest. “Was it large and drooping, with yellow 
roses ? ” 

“ The very hat. But I never knew you to take so 
much interest in a mere hat ! ” 

“ And was the cape a black one, with a chenille collar ? ” 


150 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“ Yes, I think so.’^ 

‘‘ Then he was here at the play. I wondered who she 
was. But why in the world did he do it ? ” 

One afternoon soon after this, as Polly and Ruth loi- 
tered in the hall they noticed a young man entering the 
Secretary’s office. 

“ He ’ll find no one there,’’ said Polly, “ for I ’ve just 
been in myself.” 

Stepping out of the office door, the visitor happened to 
see Annabel Harmon crossing his path, and he stopped 
her, apparently to ask a question. 

“ I wonder who he is,” said Polly. “ Annabel will 
think herself in luck if he asks her to show him the 
building. She loves to act as guide, philosopher, and 
friend to strangers.” 

Apparently some such duty had fallen on Annabel, for 
she and the stranger ascended the stairs toward the 
Library. 

“ There,” cried Polly, “ I don’t mind Annabel’s being 
the chief usher at all our social functions, and presenting 
herself everywhere as the typical Radcliffe girl. But the 
rest of us know something about the building and its con- 
tents — including the students. Why didn’t that youth 
ask us to show him over the building ? In the Secretary’s 
absence, Annabel will be able to say whatever comes into 
her head.” 

“ Are n’t you a little unfair ? ” 

“ Perhaps, but I ’ll run upstairs. Annabel might not 
give us a perfectly impartial account. Won’t you come?” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


151 


“No, thank you,” replied Ruth, “I was on the point of 
going home.” So Ruth went home, and Polly mischiev- 
ously hastened up to the Library. She found Annabel and 
the stranger looking apparently for some book. 

“ Oh, Polly,” cried Annabel, “ could n't you find the 
Librarian ? Mr. Radcliffe, excuse me. Mr. Radcliffe, let 
me introduce you to Miss Porson.” Polly started at the 
name, while acknowledging the introduction, and Annabel 
continued: “Mr. Radcliffe is deeply interested in our 
college on account of the name. You see he is descended 
from the same family as our foundress, and he thinks that 
it would be most interesting to establish some memorial 
of the family here. Did n’t I understand you to say that 
you thought of giving a collection of books, or some- 
thing of that kind ? ” 

Mr. Radcliffe modestly bowed his assent, for Polly broke 
in before he had time to reply in words. “ I should n’t ex- 
actly call Anne Radcliffe our foundress.” 

“ Oh, well,” and Annabel’s smile was sweeter than ever, 
“the college certainly took its name from her, and it 
seems so interesting to have one of her descendants 
here.” 

“ Not exactly a descendant,” interposed Mr. Radcliffe, 
“ but — ” 

“ Oh, one of the family — it ’s almost the same thing 
in these days when every one is so interested in 
genealogy.” 

Although Annabel was always fluent, Polly looked at 
her in surprise, for she was soon launched on a long ac- 


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count of the origin, rise, and present condition of Radcliffe. 
Mr. Radcliffe listened attentively, apparently with no in- 
clination to say more than “ Yes,” “ No,” “ Indeed,” 
“ Only fancy,” and the other little things that keep conver- 
sation from becoming entirely a monologue. Polly had 
moved to one side, and from time to time she gave the two a 
curious glance. Was it imagination, or did she really see 
a smile on the young man’s face ? 

Presently as they strolled into the hall, Polly heard 
Annabel say, “ I am really sorry, Mr. Radcliffe, that we 
have no books relating to your family. To-morrow, how- 
ever, when the Librarian is here she may find something. 
Her assistant is rather new to the work.” 

“ Oh, I can assure you,” the young man responded effu- 
sively, “ I have been more than repaid for coming. To see 
the interior of this building is indeed an experience, and 
under such auspices ! ” Annabel accepted the compliment 
with a becoming blush. “ She always can blush to order,” 
one of her critics had been known to say. 

Mr. Radcliffe’s next remark was inaudible to Polly, 
but Annabel’s, “ Why, certainly, I will see what I can do,” 
rang out quite distinctly. Leaving the young man alone 
for a moment, Annabel went into one of the smaller rooms 
leading off the hall. In a few minutes she returned. 

‘‘ Excuse me for keeping you so long. I had some diffi- 
culty in getting it,” and she held out to Mr. Radcliffe a 
slip of white paper. 

“ Oh, thank you, thank you a thousand times ; no book- 
plate in my collection will be more valued than this.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


153 


“Well, I declare,’^ thought Polly, “ a book-plate for a 
souvenir ! Perhaps it ’s all right to give it to a descendant 
of the Radcliffes as we have n’t any relics of the immortal 
Anne Radcliffe to show ; but really, I wonder if Mr. Rad- 
cliffe thinks that Annabel is President, Dean, and Secre- 
tary all combined ? It ’s a pity that he could n’t have come 
at an hour when more of the powers could have been seen.” 

When Polly reached the first floor of Fay House, Mr. 
Radcliffe was no longer there, and Annabel, seated in the 
conversation room, with a magazine before her on the 
table, had her eyes fixed dreamily on space. 

“ Thinking of Anne Radcliffe ? ” queried Polly, as she 
went by. But Annabel did not answer, and, passing on, 
Polly met Clarissa at the outer door. 

“ Such fun ! ” she exclaimed. “ I ’ve been laughing for 
five minutes.” 

“ Tell me,” responded Polly, “ that I may laugh, too.” 

“ As I was crossing the Common I met my cousin 
Archibald apparently waiting for some one. I stopped for 
a second to speak to him, and of course I asked whom he 
was waiting for.” 

“ Of course.” 

“ Well, it seems that Somers Brown is up for one of 
those Greek letter societies, — I ’ve forgotten which, — 
and part of the programme, the novitiate, or whatever they 
call it, is for him to bring a book-plate away from the 
Radcliffe Library by means of some bluff. He was n’t to 
get it by breaking and entering, but he was to have it 
freely given to him by some one in the college. So he 


154 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


decided to rig up as an Englishman, and call himself a 
descendant of Anne Radcliffe’s family, and — ’’ 

“ I know,’^ said Polly, smiling. 

“ Oh, then you saw him ? Perhaps it was you who gave 
him the book-plate ? ” 

“ Not I,” replied Polly, “although I had the pleasure of 
meeting Mr. Radcliffe.” 

“ Surely neither the Dean nor the Librarian gave it to 
him.” 

“ No, indeed ! It was Annabel. He ran across her when 
he started on his search for information. Poor Annabel, 
she believed every word he said, although she prides her- 
self so on her insight. She gave him any amount of infor- 
mation about Harvard as well as about Radcliffe. But then, 
he really had an English accent.” 

“ Oh, yes, but imagine Annabel’s rage when she finds 
that she has been imposed on I I should n’t like to break 
the news to her.” 

“ But she ought to know.” 

“Well, it isn’t our duty to tell her. Let us see what 
happens.” 

The outcome was that Annabel the next morning was 
ready to tell the Dean of the honor paid the college by the 
visit of Mr. Radcliffe. “He is willing to make researches 
in England regarding Lady Mon Ison herself, and I should 
not be surprised if he should found a scholarship for us. 
From what he said I judge that he has a large estate in 
England, and he seems deeply interested in Radcliffe, 
especially after hearing my account of things.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


155 


Julia happened to be the girl to whom Annabel had 
begun to unfold her great expectations from Mr. RadclifPe. 

“ But have n’t you heard the true story? ” she asked. 

“ Why, no, what do you mean ? What true story ? ” 

“ Why, Polly told me, she and Clarissa.'’ 

Annabel began to lose her usual placidity. She sus- 
pected a practical joke. 

“ Why, who was — that is, was n’t he — ” 

“No,” replied Julia, “at least as I understand it, he 
wasn’t a Radcliffe. It was a test, a quiz, you know, for 
one of the college societies.” 

“ Then who was the man ? ” 

“ His name was Brown, Somers Brown. He was ordered 
to get some girl he did n’t know to show him through Fay 
House, and to bring away a new book-plate to prove that 
he had been in the Library. At least that is as I under- 
stood the story from Clarissa.” 

It would have been better had Julia not mentioned 
Clarissa’s name. Annabel turned from white to red and 
from red to white. Like most persons with a fair amount 
of self-love, she regarded a practical joke as almost unbear- 
able. She remembered how Polly had stood about in the 
hall while she was talking with the Englishman, and she 
felt not unnaturally aggrieved. Beyond the change of 
color and a certain increase of dignity, Annabel did not 
express her feelings. “ When there is any mischief brew- 
ing Polly and Clarissa are pretty sure to be in it,” she said. 
Then she moved off with a smile hardly less amiable than 
the one she usually wore, before Julia could explain that 


156 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Polly and Clarissa had really had nothing to do with the 
visit of the pseudo Mr. RadclifPe, to Fay House. The 
story, however, had widely circulated, and most of those 
who knew Annabel, even her friends, were highly enter- 
tained that one who so prided herself on her insight should 
have been thus imposed upon. 

“ I saw Somers Brown walking about with Annabel yes- 
terday, and I wondered why he held up his hand as if to 
enjoin silence on me. I had no idea that he was moving 
about under false colors. I can see, though, how he might 
impose on any one as an Englishman. He has lived 
abroad a great deal, and he really has an accent. Now that 
I think of it, his get-up yesterday was rather amusing, the 
plaids in his suit were so very plaid, and he used his 
monocle so steadily — and that cane ! ” 

“ He is so well known in Boston and Cambridge society 
that I wonder Annabel did not recognize him. I supposed 
that she knew everybody — at least by sight,” said one 
girl, sarcastically. 

But so far as words were concerned, no one ever knew 
exactly how Annabel felt. An observer, however, might 
have noticed that from this time her demeanor toward 
Clarissa and Polly was far less cordial. 

The book-plate episode led to a revival of interest in the 
story of Anne Radcliffe. Girls who had never heard just 
how the name came to be chosen for their college began to 
inform themselves more exactly. 


XV 


ANGELINA 

Late one afternoon as Julia sat in her study, the maid, 
rapping at her door, announced, “A young girl to see 
you.” 

“Didn’t she give her name?” 

“No, she is — well, she is a young person.” 

“Show her up, please,” and Julia, stepping outside, 
soon saw Angelina coming up the stairs. 

“Why, what brought you so far this cold day, Ange- 
lina?” she .asked in greeting her. 

“Well, Miss Julia,” she replied from the depths of an 
easy-chair in which she had immediately seated herself, 
“well, I did have a time getting here. You see I started 
this morning, and I told my mother not to worry if I 
did n’t come home to-night. I knew you ’d make room 
for me, and there ’s things I want to talk over that I 
couldn’t write.” 

Julia had not heard from the Rosas since the Christmas 
vacation, when she had spared a day to visit them and take 
a basket of presents. 

“I wasn’t sure that you wanted me to come to Cam- 
bridge,” said Angelina. “I don’t remember your ever 
inviting me, but ever since I heard you were at college 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


I ’ve been anxious to see what it was like. I thought that 
colleges were just for men?” 

“Oh, no, for girls, too, in these days.” 

“I think I ’d like to go to college myself,” said Ange- 
lina, with a sidelong glance at Julia, “but I don’t suppose 
that I ’ll have the chance.” 

Julia shook her head. “Angelina, you may not go to 
college, but you know that we wish you to go on with your 
studies. I am sorry that there is no evening school at 
Shiloh.” 

“That’s just it,” responded Angelina, “that’s just 
what I wanted to talk about. I don’t feel as if I cared 
much for Shiloh; it’s terribly quiet there in the winter 
after the summer people are gone. I can’t seem to think 
that I want to stay there all the time.” 

“Your mother must decide that. Are you not needed 
at home?” asked Julia weakly, knowing that Mrs. Rosa 
had very little authority over her children, and that she 
was only too ready to refer all difficult questions to Julia 
and Miss South. 

“Well, my mother does kind of depend on me,” said 
Angelina. She did not care to admit that she was of too 
little consequence in the household. “ But still she could 
get along without me. The boys help considerable after 
school. I don’t think I’m appreciated; I’m not per- 
fectly happy,” and Angelina drew out her handkerchief, 
to be ready for any tears that her self-pity might start. 

“I cannot encourage you to leave Shiloh,” said Julia. 
“You are not sixteen, and you are not strong enough, I 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


159 


am sure, to go out to work. You would not find it half 
as pleasant to work in a strange family as you find it now 
at home ; and should you get a place in town, you could 
not possibly earn enough to pay your board.” 

Angelina applied the handkerchief to two or three 
invisible tears. 

“Now, Angelina,” added Julia, “I will do what I can. 
I will write to Miss South. She can tell much better than 
I what is best. You spoke about going to college. That, 
at present, is out of the question. But is there any special 
thing that you would like to study?” 

At first Angelina made no reply. Then she replied 
rather petulantly, “I hadn’t thought of studying anything 
in particular, only I don’t care much to stay in Shiloh this 
winter, and that ’s the truth.” 

By her manner as well as by her words, Julia saw that 
Angelina was likely to give her and Miss South more or 
less trouble. They had assumed a certain responsibility 
in regard to the Rosas, and they could not easily shake 
it off. 

During their two years in Shiloh the Rosas had seemed 
to be contented. They had never before been so pros- 
perous. Instead of the two crowded tenement rooms they 
had a neat little cottage, which had been put in perfect 
order for them. In the course of the two years, to be 
sure, the newness and freshness had decidedly worn off, as 
Julia had observed to her regret when she called there in 
December. But their Shiloh home was infinitely more 
comfortable than any home they could have had in Boston. 


160 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Mrs. Rosa’s health had failed in the city, but she had so 
improved now that she was able to earn a fair part of the 
family income. The rest of it was made up in various 
ways. Miss South and Julia paid the rent of the little 
house. Nora and Brenda and Edith had charge of a fund 
made up of their own savings and contributions from their 
friends. Since she had so cleverly recovered the money 
stolen from Mrs. Rosa by Miguel Silva, Brenda felt that 
she could be very liberal to the Rosas. 

The fund was Mrs. Rosa’s dependence for food and 
fuel. Part of her fuel was gathered by the older children 
in the woods, and a small vegetable garden supplied not 
only summer vegetables, but something towards their 
winter needs. 

In season Angelina earned her board and a dollar a 
week at a summer boarding-house. This she was allowed 
to handle under Miss South’s supervision, and she had al- 
ready started a bank-book. The sum in the bank, however, 
was very small, for Angelina had availed herself to the 
utmost of Miss South’s permission to use part of her own 
money for clothes. Suitable garments were chosen each 
year by Brenda and her friends from their own stock of 
discarded clothes, which, altered, answered for Angelina. 
But shoes and hats and some other things Angelina 
insisted on buying from her own savings, and in conse- 
quence the amount in the bank showed small increase. 
Mrs. Rosa herself had once worked at tailoring, and so she 
was able to remodel the garments given her for her boys. 
In the case of so helpless a family, neither Miss South nor 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 161 

J nlia felt that they were likely to do harm by fairly liberal 
gifts. They had removed Mrs. Rosa from the city where 
she might have had regular relief from various charitable 
societies, from her church and from the Overseers if 
from no more. They had made her understand that all 
that she received from private individuals was conditioned 
on the care she showed in bringing up her family, — that 
it was a kind of reward of merit. Thus far all the people 
interested in the Rosas had been gratified by their prog- 
ress, and Julia knew that Miss South had some plans for 
Angelina which might make the girl more contented. 
Ever since summer, however. Miss South had been occu- 
pied with the care of her aged grandmother, Madame 
Dulaunay, and she had been unable to do more for the 
Rosas than write to them and see that they received their 
money regularly. That very week she had started for 
Florida with Madame Dulaunay, and Julia saw she must 
make plans for Angelina. She was beginning to be so 
busy now preparing for the examinations that she hardly 
saw how she could spare much thought or energy for the 
young girl. Behind these thoughts was a background 
of disappointment that Angelina had so quickly tired of 
Shiloh. 

“You must tell me what you especially wish to do, or 
to study,” she said. 

“Yes’m,” responded Angelina, too much interested in 
a box of photographs on the table to reply with her usual 
loquacity. 

“Then there is something?” Julia questioned. 

11 


162 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Well, nothing in particular. I wouldn’t mind living 
at the North End again. It ’s livelier than Shiloh.” 

“But surely,” said Julia, “you are all much more com- 
fortable at Shiloh than you could possibly be at the North 
End.” 

“I don’t know,” rejoined Angelina. “I don’t feel so 
very comfortable at Shiloh. I ain’t busy enough, and I 
ain’t idle enough really to enjoy it.” 

Julia understood Angelina, poorly though she had 
expressed her meaning. 

“Does your mother know where you are to-night? 
Won’t she be worried if you stay away so late?” 

“ I told her that I was coming to Cambridge to see you. 
She ’ll know that you will look out for me.” 

“When you next come to Cambridge you must start 
earlier. It is altogether too late for you to go home now. 
I will have a bed made for you on this divan, and to- 
morrow you can go back to Shiloh.” 

“Oh, thank you,” cried Angelina, her face beaming at 
the thought of a night away from Shiloh. 

“ Now, I ’ll tell you, Angelina, what I propose to do. 
I will see if your mother will let you come to Cambridge 
once a week. There is one day when I am not very 
busy. I can probably arrange to have you sleep in this 
house. I will pay your way over here and give you your 
meals. In return I shall expect you to do whatever 
mending Miss Roberts and I have ready for you. Be- 
sides, I will give you a lesson to study at home, and each 
Wednesday I will hear you recite it and show you how to 
study.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


163 


Angelina both looked and spoke her thanks. “I don’t 
see how you ever came to think of anything so beautiful. ” 

“I am glad that you like it,” responded Julia, “and I 
hope that you will do your best to help carry it out.” 

Angelina chose history as her subject of study, and as 
she had had American History at school, Julia began with 
a little outline of the World’s History. 

It was a good plan and it worked very well. Shiloh 
evidently had not given Angelina enough to do in winter, 
and it was well for her to have an interest outside her 
home. Yet her mother needed her help to a certain 
extent, and it would have been a mistake to encourage 
Angelina to work entirely outside of the house. The 
weekly visit kept Julia in closer touch with the Rosa 
family than would otherwise have been possible, and this 
in itself was a good thing. Then, too, she gained deeper 
insight into Angelina’s character than she could have 
gained in any other way. 

She engaged a small room from Mrs. Colton where 
Angelina slept when in Cambridge, and in it she placed a 
wicker-work table with a large basket and all the appli- 
ances for mending stockings, sewing on buttons, and the 
simple repairing of which Angelina was capable. 

“I have always heard,” said Ruth, who shared in the 
advantages of Angelina’s services, “ that lazy people take 
the most pains ; for, honestly, it would save you time and 
money to do your own mending, and let me do mine, 
rather than have all this bother with Angelina.” 

“Oh, it’s a good thing for me, too,” replied Julia. 


164 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“ Our great danger here in college is in thinking that we 
have no duties except those connected with our studies, 
as if the only thing worth living for were to get ‘ A ’ or 
‘ B ’ in some course.” 

“I know girls who wouldn’t think ‘ B ’ \vorth living 
for,” retorted Ruth, “but I agree with you that there is 
always a danger that we may be too narrow in our inter- 
ests. That ’s why I am glad that so many girls are taking 
an interest in the operetta. In doing it they will be 
assisting the fund for the North End reading-room, which 
is calculated to do an immense amount of good. You 
have no idea, Julia, what a success the operetta will be.” 

“I hope so.” Julia spoke absent-mindedly. A plan 
that Miss South had suggested for Angelina and girls of 
her kind was running through her mind. But she knew 
that until she should leave college there would be little 
chance of carrying it into effect. She would have been 
glad to work with some of the organized charities, but 
she felt that college must claim the most of her time. 
Comparatively few of her classmates, however, were with- 
out some bit of philanthropic work. Several taught 
Sunday-school classes. Several others gave an evening 
a week to some Boys’ or Girls’ Club in Boston or Cam- 
bridge. The Emmanuel Society, so named for John Har- 
vard’s College, had regular meetings before which appeared 
various organizations, who made clear their claims to the 
support of thoughtful young women. The College Settle- 
ments appealed strongly to the undergraduate, and a 
chapter to raise money for the work had been formed at 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


165 


Kadcliffe. The Emmanuel Society supported an annual 
scholarship, and maintained a library of text-books to be 
lent to students who could not afford to buy all the ex- 
pensive books needed in their courses. 

Julia and Ruth and Clarissa, and even Pamela, con- 
tributed something to the various causes that appealed to 
Radcliffe girls, for time as well as money was asked for. 

When her aunt remonstrated with Julia for giving too 
much thought and time to Angelina, Julia replied that 
she believed that the time would not be altogether thrown 
away. 

“Now that I know that Angelina needs help and advice, 
I should feel it wrong to give her up.” 

“If she appreciates it,” said Mrs. Barlow doubtfully. 

“Oh, I’m sure that she will,” responded Julia cheer- 
fully. “Besides, she really is of some use to me and 
Ruth.” 

Yet there were times when Angelina’s little vagaries 
were hard to overcome. She was, for example, very fond 
of newspaper reading, and the advertisements seemed to 
have a special charm for her. 

“Oh, Miss Julia,” she said one day, “I do wish that 
I could have a bottle of this,” and she pointed to an 
advertisement of “The Pearl of Beauty.” “They say,” 
continued Angelina, “ that it will make the sallowest com- 
plexion a delicate pink. Now, Miss Julia, you know that 
I ’m as sallow as most Portuguese, and I do wish that 
‘ The Pearl of Beauty ’ did not cost so much ; it ’s a 
dollar a bottle. But one of the boarders at Shiloh asked 


166 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


me last summer if I wasn’t a colored person — kind of 
light-colored, and that wasn’t pleasant.” 

But Julia, unmoved by this, explained that it was un- 
wise to believe every newspaper advertisement. 

“But look at this,” pointing to the lithographed lady 
who held a placard in her hands on which were printed 
words of praise of the beautifier. “ ‘ Look at me, please. 
I once was dark as night, but now am fair as a lily of 
the valley.’ That shows that she must have improved,” 
said the confiding Angelina, reading the closing words: 
“ ‘ Beauty is a duty. ’ Oh ! 1 wish that I could have a 
bottle.” 

“It would be throwing money away, and I should be 
very much displeased with you. Remember,” added 
Julia, “that advertisements are written simply to induce 
people to buy the thing advertised.” 

“Don’t they tell the truth?” and Angelina looked 
utterly surprised. “I always believe every word I read.” 

“You have a great deal to learn, Angelina, and I do 
hope that you will remember what I have said about 
patent medicines.” 

One Wednesday, a week or two later, Julia found 
Angelina standing before the mirror in the little room 
with a bottle in her hand. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, suspecting the 
truth, and Angelina, starting guiltily, dropped the bottle, 
and a pinkish fluid poured out on the light carpet. As 
the bottle lay there, Julia read the words “Pearl of 
Beauty” on the outside. Angelina shamefacedly seized 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 167 

a towel and began to mop up the carpet, murmuring as 
she did so, “I bought it with my own money.” 

Realizing that she had little authority over Angelina, 
Julia could only say, “I am sorry that you have so little 
regard for my opinion.” Yet neither then nor at any 
other time did Angelina apologize for what she had done. 
When Julia, consequently, reflected on the matter, she 
wondered if, after all, she might not have made a mistake 
in showing so much confidence in Angelina. 


XVI 


WHO WROTE IT? 

“It’s bad taste, anyway,” said Annabel Harmon. 

“To call it by no worse name,” responded Elizabeth 
Darcy. 

“Almost nothing can be worse than bad taste,” rejoined 
Annabel. 

The two girls, at a table in the conversation room, were 
looking eagerly at the page of a newspaper. 

“Why, what’s the trouble?” asked Polly, who had 
been standing near the window. “ Has anybody had the 
bad taste to commit a murder, or burglary, or some other 
crime? I see that you have a yellowish journal there.” 

The two, absorbed in their paper, did not reply, and 
Polly drew near them until she could read the head- 
lines: “Is a College Education Worth While for Girls?” 
“Lowering of the Standard by a University Professor 
to meet the Demands of Woman.” 

“Dear me!” cried Polly, “this does look interesting.” 

“Yes,” responded Annabel, “read further and you will 
find it more so. You can take the paper for a few min- 
utes. I ’m glad that I happened to buy one in the Square 
when I came out from town. ” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


169 


Polly sat down with the newspaper. Under the large 
headlines were others in smaller type that showed that the 
professor to whom reference was made was a Harvard 
professor, and then she began to read. Surely there was 
something very familiar in what followed. It purported 
to be the transcript of a few pages from the history note- 
book of a student at Radcliffe. It was all very familiar. 
Why, of course ! Clarissa’s notes ! No one who had ever 
gazed upon them could mistake the style. She remem- 
bered having read this very lecture last year when prepar- 
ing for her examinations. Clarissa was always generous 
in lending her note-books, and Polly had had the use of 
this for a day or two. But what had seemed only funny 
within the covers of a note-book seemed very imperti- 
nent thus exposed to the gaze of every one who cared 
to buy a penny paper. Reading further, Polly learned 
that the article was copied from an obscure magazine to 
which the Radcliffe notes had been sent with a plain- 
tive inquiry whether such lectures could greatly benefit 
woman. 

“ Poor Professor Z ! ” sighed Polly. “ He certainly 
lectures in this style sometimes. For my own part, I 
used to enjoy the colloquialisms, and he used to give us 
so much besides that it is n’t fair to pillory him.” 

“What do you think of Clarissa now?” asked Elizabeth 
Darcy. 

“Clarissa?” repeated Polly. “What has she to do 
with it?” 

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “Most of us have 


170 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


seen Clarissa’s note-books; if she didn’t write this, who 
did?” 

“I won’t say that this is not Clarissa’s style, I won’t 
even say that these are not her notes ; but I will say that 
she didn’t print them.” 

“I wish that I had your confidence in Clarissa.” Eliza- 
beth spoke with an accent of pity. “You must admit that 
she loves to make fun of people.” 

“She is not half as bad as I am,” rejoined Polly, stoutly 
defending her friend. “Why, I have even made fun of 
her, — that was before I knew her so well. But she bore 
me no malice. In fact, she never takes revenge, and there 
is malice in this article.” 

“You admit that these are Clarissa’s notes, and yet you 
don’t think them malicious.” 

The last speaker was Annabel, who had joined the 
group. 

“ Come, Miss Harmon, be fair ; it is one thing to write 
nonsense intended only for one’s own eyes, and another to 
put it before the public. Clarissa, I know, did not have 
the notes published.” Then Polly turned away. 

Polly was by no means comfortable as she left Fay 
House, and the better to disprove the accusation made by 
Elizabeth, she went to the stationer’s in the Square to buy 
a copy of the newspaper. It was the last one to be had. 
“It’s been in the greatest demand,” explained the atten- 
dant. “ Some kind of a college article, I believe ; I have n’t 
had time to look at it myself.” 

Polly folded the paper and walked down Brattle Street. 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


171 


“I believe I’ll ask Clarissa point blank.” Polly had a 
slightly uncomfortable doubt as she thought of the article, 
and it happened, as it so often does happen in such cases, 
that when she met Clarissa she could not ask the question. 
“If she hasn’t heard, it would only disturb her,” was her 
excuse. Afterwards she was sorry that she had not at 
once gone to her. 

Within twenty-four hours almost every one at Radcliffe 
had read the article. Those who did not own papers 
borrowed them, and the critics and partisans of Clarissa 
ranged themselves strongly on one side or the other. 
Some, while blaming Clarissa for letting her notes get into 
print, said that it was no more than Professor Z deserved, 
since the tone of his lectures had never been sufficiently 
academic. Others were glad that he was now absent on 
his Sabbatical year, for if he were lecturing in Cambridge 
they were sure that his wrath would have been pretty 
keenly felt. Ruth, of course, took Annabel Harmon’s 
view of the affair. Julia, while loath to think that Clar- 
issa had done this in a spirit of malice, thought that she 
had allowed herself to be carried away by the spirit of fun, 
without realizing that the whole thing was a deflection 
from the straight line of honor. She and Pamela dis- 
cussed the matter at some length, and very quickly agreed 
that the relation of a professor to a small class was a con- 
fidential relation, and that only an instructor who was on 
very good terms with his class would talk to them after 
the fashion of Professor Z. Consequently, to quote his 
direct language was like telling family secrets. 


172 BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 

Yet with it all nobody dared speak to Clarissa. They 
quoted what this professor or that professor’s wife had 
said; how one had declared that nothing would induce 
him to lecture at Radcliffe, how another had termed this 
the natural result of trying to benefit women, — they 
would merely hold up their benefactors to ridicule, — and 
still no one dared reprove Clarissa. The Western girl 
wrapped herself in a forbidding manner, and not even 
Polly dared speak of the article or its effects. 

But one day, turning the matter over in her mind, she 
came to a decision. “A party will be the very thing,” 
^ she said to herself, “ and Clarissa shall give it. Ruth and 
Julia and Lois Forsaith, oh, yes, and Pamela, and two or 
three others, — as many as she can afford chairs for, — it 
will be the very thing.” 

Clarissa’s room was in a small, neat house in a neat side 
street. Her landlady had other boarders, but she took a 
real interest in them all. 

Clarissa’s room looked on a little yard filled with pear 
trees, and the children of the neighborhood played con- 
stantly under her windows. This did not disturb her, for 
her nerves were not near the surface. Sometimes she 
called the children to her room and gave them a treat of 
fruit or sweet things. Mrs. Freeman’s other boarders 
thought Clarissa rather frivolous. One of them was a 
timid Freshman who studied unremittingly. Two of the 
others were graduate students, delving into zoology, and 
other “ mussy sciences ” (Clarissa’s phraseology), and the 
fifth was an inoffensive Sophomore. The two graduates 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


173 


roomed together. Clarissa had the best room in the 
house, but the Freshman had a small room under the 
eaves. The Freshman sometimes complained that she had 
made a mistake, and that she should have had a room in a 
lodging-house where she could have boarded herself with 
the aid of a chafing-dish and gas stove. 

“And starve to death, with nobody nigh to hinder,” 
said Clarissa. “I’m glad that kind of thing is not en- 
couraged at Radcliffe. But I wish that you had the room 
on my floor, instead of those zoologists. Often about ten 
p.M. when I ’ve finished studying I ’d slip in and talk 
with you. Sometimes I knock on the zoological door, 
but if they let me in I feel like a criminal, for I can see 
that they are making a great effort to be polite, while they 
wish me a thousand miles away. They like to study well 
into the small hours, but as they pay for their own oil 
nobody can well object. I ’m not half as entertaining to 
them as those squirmy things they keep in bottles. The 
only real gaiety in which they ever indulge is an ethical 
discussion with Pamela; just imagine the combination, 
ethics and zoology!” 

The other girl laughed. “You might start a discussion 
at your party.” 

“No, thank you, it’s to be a poster party, nothing 
more nor less improving than posters will be considered 
worthy of mention.” 

Clarissa had yielded to Polly’s plans for the party, 
understanding the spirit in which it had been arranged. 
It had been talked of indefinitely before the affair of the 


174 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


newspaper ; and although Polly did not now explain why 
she was so anxious to have her friend turn entertainer at 
this particular time, Clarissa understood, and Polly knew 
that she understood. 

Nearly all who had been invited responded to Clarissa’s 
invitation, and one windy evening they gathered very 
contentedly around the open fire in her room. Clarissa’s 
room was as different as possible from Julia’s. To its 
rather homely furnishings she had added various things 
that had caught her fancy without regard to any scheme 
of art. There was a vivid Navajo blanket over her couch, 
and two Indian baskets from the Southwest on a bracket 
in a corner. Some Japanese fans were displayed over the 
mantle-piece, and just above them hung in a black frame 
a fine photograph of the Arch of Titus. But the other 
three walls, whether beautiful or ugly in the matter of 
their everyday decorations, for this evening were hidden 
by posters — posters large, small, ugly, beautiful, covered 
every spot. 

“I know,” said Clarissa, in explanation, after welcom- 
ing her guests, “I know that posters have gone out of 
fashion. That is partly why I ’ve taken them up. I had 
thought of offering prizes to the girl who could guess the 
artist of the largest number, but instead of that I ’m going 
to explain them myself. Lo! here is a pointer that I 
brought over from Fay House this very afternoon.” So 
armed with the long wooden stick, Clarissa moved about 
the room, explaining much after the fashion of an auc- 
tioneer who has something to dispose of. 













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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


175 


“This you will see is undoubtedly French. You could 
tell it by the anatomy of the cats, if in no other way. 
Such creatures were never seen on this side of the Atlan- 
tic. Jim got it for me. The real name of the work of 
art is ‘ Lait Pur Sterilise ; ’ ” and as she paused for a mo- 
ment, they all gazed with fitting admiration on the child 
in a red dress drinking from a bowl under the envious 
eyes of three cats. 

“Well, it’s better,” said Polly, “than some of those 
greenery yallery things. No wonder Aubrey Beardsley 
died young.” 

“Oh, Polly, you artless creature, didn’t you dote on 
the Yellow Book?” 

“Not I,” replied Polly. “I measured Mrs. Patrick 
Campbell as once portrayed there, and in proportion to 
the length of her head as there shown she must be about 
ten feet tall.” 

“ Why, Polly, I did n’t realize that you knew so much 
about Art.” 

“ Oh, I know more things than I am sometimes credited 
with, ” and there was an undertone of deeper meaning in 
Polly’s voice. 

“Here’s a Grasset,” continued Clarissa, resuming her 
explanations. “ Is n’t it a beauty ? ” 

“No, no, Clarissa,” said Julia, “I like this better;” and 
rising, she put her hand on a poster with a Puritan maiden 
carrying mistletoe. 

“ You show your taste,” said Clarissa, “ that ’s a Rhead. ” 
Though hung near Dudley Hardy’s “Gaiety Girl” in 


176 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


poster land, the two did not seem inharmonious neighbors. 
Not far from them was Bemliardt’s Jeanne d’Arc, and 
for fifteen minutes or more Clarissa kept her friends 
amused with the poster show. Before her art lecture was 
quite at an end, J ulia as assistant hostess had lit the lamp 
under the chafing-dish, and then when the others found 
that fudge-making was the next thing on the programme, 
each one wished to offer her own receipt, and to the great 
surprise of the company it was found that each receipt 
varied a little from the others. 

“ First you grate a pound of chocolate into the chafing- 
dish,” began Polly. 

“Oh, not a pound — half a pound at first,” interrupted 
Julia. 

“It’s a great deal better to begin by melting your 
butter, and then put in a pint of milk,” added Ruth. 

“I never use any milk,” interposed Clarissa. 

“Then you let it simmer half an hour,” resumed 
Polly. 

“Oh, there isn’t any fixed length of time,” cried Ruth 
again; “ just let it cook until it ’s done.” 

“ How do you know when it ’s done ? ” 

Then followed a Babel of voices, as each one told what 
she thought the proper test; and a listener, I fear, who 
knew nothing of fudge-making, would have had hard 
work to select a working receipt from the directions given 
by these merry girls. 

By the time the fudge was ready the ball had been set 
rolling, and it was evident that Clarissa’s party was a 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


177 


success. While Ruth and Lois were superintending a 
second chafing-dish, in which a rarebit was preparing, 
Polly picked up a guitar and began to accompany herself, 
as she sang the opening lines of one of the Radcliffe 
classics, “The Mermaid.” 

“That ’s just the thing to cheer us up.” 

“As if you needed cheering! But here it is!” And 
Polly struck the chords with a firm hand, as she sang 
about the little mermaid who 

“ Could not even speak Acroparthianic Greek, 

And she ’d no instruction in Theology. 

One day she found, as she swam around, 

A Radcliffe catalogue. 

Which shone afar like an evening star 
From out the mist and fog. 

She paused to rest on a billow’s crest, 

In a wreath of sparkling foam. 

And when she had read what the catalogue said, 

She decided to leave her home. 

She saw at once that she was a dunce 
And ought to go to college. 

So dressed in her best with a hat from Celeste, 

She set out for the shrine of knowledge. 

The cars were so filled she was almost killed. 

But she found she could easily swim 
Up Garden Street, that road so neat 
That has Radcliffe on its brim.” 

The last two lines were loudly applauded, for the mud 
of Garden Street was constantly ridiculed by the college 
girls to be beyond description. The song proceeded to 
describe the advent of the mermaid at Fay House: 

12 


178 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


** She told her race, and her boarding-place, 

And her age (less a year, maybe), 

But when the question came, 

‘ What ’s your grandma’s middle name ? * 

She wept and turned to flee.” 

“The regular Boston question,” said Clarissa, with an 
expression of scorn. 

“Don’t interrupt,” cried Ruth, as Polly sang the chorus 
of each verse. 

“ Oh, the ocean swell is all very well 
For frivolous sport and play. 

But the cultured mind you ’ll seldom find 
Beneath the salt sea spray.” 

Other songs followed this, — the “ Hunting Song ” from 
the “Princess Perfection,” snatches from one or two 
real operas ; and at last as they sat around the open fire 
drinking lemonade — for the rarebit was now a thing of 
the past — Clarissa turned down the lights, and proposed 
that they should tell weird stories. No one of the eight 
or nine present was excused. Even Ernestine Dunton 
had to do her part, and she had unbent to an extent that 
was astonishing to Ruth and Clarissa ; for in the preced- 
ing year when she had been their Senior adviser, she had 
seemed the personification of seriousness. She was now 
back at Radcliffe as a graduate student, and in certain 
ways she had begun to unbend. 

As her friends bade her good-night, Clarissa knew 
that her party had been a success; for Polly, linger- 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


179 


ing a little behind the others, put out her hand and 
whispered, “You know that we don’t believe that you 
did that foolish thing, don’t you?” and Clarissa, re- 
turning the pressure, replied, “Of course you could not 
believe it.” 


XVII 


A PBIVATE DETECTIVE 

In spite of the surface frivolity, there was in Polly a 
strong vein of common sense. Therefore, as she thought 
more and more deeply about the newspaper article she 
became convinced that great injustice had been done 
Clarissa. She was naturally puzzled, for the notes so 
unkindly quoted were certainly from the Kansas girl’s 
note-book. Only too well she remembered having read 
them herself, and having laughed at some of the hits. 
But how had the newspaper obtained them? Without 
having talked with Clarissa directly, without having had 
more than the whispered word at the party, she j^et knew 
that the Kansas girl was not to blame. She began to set 
her wits at work. To solve the mystery she must turn 
private detective. 

One Wednesday afternoon she dropped into the pleasant 
drawing-room at Fay House ; “ the most homelike place,” 
she often said, “this side of Atlanta.” Indeed, many 
other Radclifife girls were in the habit of saying the same 
thing, only instead of Atlanta they named Pittsburg, or 
Topeka, or Kalamazoo, or, in short, the particular city or 
town which each called her home. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


181 


“ The first month I was in Cambridge,” Polly had said 
to the President, “ I was right smart homesick and miser- 
able. I felt like I couldn’t stand it. But when I came in 
here, and saw you seated at the tea-table, beside the open 
fire, I felt like I were with my grandmother, and that 
this was a place where I could lay aside all my forlornness. 
You don’t mind my comparing you to my grandmother? 
I reckon it is n’t perfectly polite.” 

But the widow of the great scientist, who was proud to 
admit her threescore years and ten, smiled with her ac- 
customed grace, saying in reply : 

“ No, indeed, my dear, I am only complimented by the 
comparison.” 

Nor was Polly the only one who felt the restful in- 
fluence of the drawing-room at Fay House; the quaint 
old-fashioned room, with its oval ends, curving outward, 
with its dull green satiny wall-paper, and the old-time 
couch and easy-chairs covered in flowered crimson. 

Girls who entered it for the first time were impressed by 
the dainty silver and china of the tea-table, and they would 
turn from the life-size portrait of Mrs. Agassiz between 
the windows to the majestic figure of the President her- 
self presiding over the teacups, and neither picture nor 
living figure suffered by the comparison. 

On this particular Wednesday afternoon, not so very long 
after the publication of the alleged lecture of Professor Z 
in the yellow journal, Polly, after paying her respects 
to Mrs. Agassiz, seated herself at the further side of the 
room. She did not linger as was her wont around the tea- 


182 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


table, for two distinguished guests had entered just behind 
her. One was a Frenchwoman, of international reputation, 
and the other a distinguished Englishman, making a study 
of our institutions. The former was accompanied by a 
well-known member of the Harvard Faculty, and the latter 
by two Bostonians whom he was visiting. 

“ Is n’t it just lovely,” said a little Freshman seated 
near Polly, “ to see such great people ? That ’s what I like 
about Boston and Cambridge. You ’re always meeting 
people who seem to belong in books.” 

“Yes,” replied Polly mockingly, “ it ’s a liberal education 
just to look at them. Let’s talk French, and see if our 
accent improves through breathing the same atmosphere 
with Madame X.” 

“Oh, I didn’t mean exactly that,” replied the Fresh- 
man, “only we certainly do learn things here that we 
couldn’t get out of books.” 

“ Yes, yes, dear, you ’re certainly right, and I only wish 
that we could get yon Englishman to tell us how he 
manages to wear that monocle, and yet look perfectly 
happy.” 

The Freshman glanced at Polly to see if she was in 
earnest, and made some remark to which Polly returned 
no answer. 

Polly’s thoughts indeed had begun to wander, sent off by 
a word or two from a girl standing with her back to her. 

“ She has n’t found it out yet, or she would n’t speak to 
her,” were the words that fell on her ear. Looking toward 
the door she saw that Clarissa had just entered, and had 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


183 


paused for a moment to say a word to Annabel, who as 
usual was the centre of an admiring group. 

Clarissa passed on to pay her respects to the President ; 
and while Polly was reflecting on what she had heard, 
she saw the girls in the group leave Annabel one by one to 
join Clarissa, standing at the other side of the fireplace. 
Annabel frowned as she moved toward Polly's corner. 
She and the girl with her did not notice Polly, for they 
stood with their backs to her. 

“Yes, it is rather bold — really very bold, but she 
never cares what any one thinks. She has so much — so 
much — 

“ Effrontery, I should call it,” replied the other, who 
was well known to be a worshipper of a rising star, such 
as Annabel was now supposed to be. “ But I know that 
you never like to say anything disagreeable.” 

“Well, of course, one should be very careful;” and 
Annabel sighed the sigh of the needlessly perfect person. 

Upon this, Polly, rising suddenly, faced around, and with 
a hasty nod to Annabel joined Clarissa at the other side of 
the room. 

The few apparently unimportant words that she had 
heard had helped her far along with her detective work. 
She could not, however, altogether conceal her feelings, 
and slipping her arm through Clarissa’s, she led her back 
toward Annabel and her friends. 

“Behold the rising star!” she exclaimed; “for of 
course,” she added in explanation, “you’ve heard that 
Clarissa is to have leading part in Julia’s operetta.” 


184 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Why, Polly,” said Clarissa, “I had not — ” 

“ Don’t contradict,” responded Polly, “ our plans are 
made, and there is n’t a question but that you have the 
most manly tone, and gait, and — ” 

“ Why, Annabel, I thought that you were to have the 
chief part ! ” interposed her friend. 

“ Oh, she ’ll be in it,” rejoined Polly, in a somewhat 
patronizing tone, assumed for the occasion, “ if not in the 
chief part.” 

Then she moved away, still leaning on Clarissa’s arm, 
and Annabel had no chance to retort. The foreign guests 
had gone to inspect the other parts of Fay House, and the 
drawing-room was filling with girls whose lectures for the 
day had ended. 

“ Oh, Polly,” cried Clarissa, as the two friends left the 
room, after paying their respects to the President and Dean. 
“ Why, Polly, I can’t act ; I don’t belong with those girls at 
all. Ruth Roberts, you know, barely tolerates me, and 
she’s to be the manager.” 

“ Nonsense, she is n’t the whole thing. Besides, I hap- 
pen to know that she does want you.” 

“ What about Annabel ? ” 

“ Well, we can’t really leave her out. Her voice isn’t 
remarkable, but she acts pretty well ; and since she 's been 
playing with the Cambridge Dramatic Club, she ’s been 
considered our representative actor. Besides, she ’s a great 
friend of Ruth’s.” 

“ I know it,” responded Clarissa. “ You surely ought to 
have Annabel ; but can I pull all right with those girls?” 


BEENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


185 


“Of course, and I am to be a dapper little dandy. 
Though we are to he rivals in love, we can support each 
other.” 

So at last Clarissa yielded, and after the mid-years, re- 
hearsals went on pretty rapidly. There were, after all, 
several good parts in the operetta ; and Ruth, viewing 
everything with the critical eye of a business manager, was 
certain that the performance would bring even more than 
she had hoped. 

“ Clarissa herself would n’t be so bad,” said Ruth one 
evening, as she and Julia sat in the study after dinner, 
“ but I can’t say that I like her friends. She has a rather 
scrubby lot of hangers-on. Look at those two this after- 
noon ! ” 

“ Why, I saw nothing to criticise.” 

“ You never do, Julia, but they certainly hadn't a word 
to say for themselves, and their clothes were frightful. 
Clarissa’s red coat is bad enough, but she is rather fine- 
looking, and she is so decidedly unlike any one else that 
you don’t have to apologize for her. But those others 
were so — so nondescript.” 

“ Ruth,” exclaimed Julia, with a shade of reproach, “ you 
have changed very much the past year. You used to think 
Belle’s exclusiveness silly, but you are tending that way 
yourself.” 

“ You are not in earnest ! ” 

“ Of course, you ’ll never be just like Belle. But you 
have begun to think too much about appearances.” 

“ But you are too amiable, Julia. As we can’t be inti- 


186 BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 

mate with all the girls we meet, we might as well choose 
the most congenial. We can’t let all kinds of girls take 
up our time.” 

“ My time is n’t so valuable. I can spare a little even 
to all kinds of girls.” 

“ Yes, but even on Mondays, sometimes, there are such 
queer girls. They make an unfavorable impression on 
people from town who call. Don’t you remember when 
Mrs. Blair came out? Now, if she had only met Annabel 
Harmon or Elizabeth Darcy, how different it would have 
been ! ” 

“ Annabel Harmon ! ” Julia wondered why she so dis- 
liked Ruth’s intimacy with Annabel, for Annabel was a 
popular girl, hardly less so than Ehzabeth Darcy. She 
was well-bred and interesting. “ I never can thoroughly 
trust any one who spends her spare time reading French 
books,” Clarissa had said laughingly, although Julia would 
have hesitated to put it quite so definitely. 

Ruth, however, was apparently fascinated by Annabel, 
and constantly quoted her with admiration. Annabel had 
a dislike for plain things and plain people. By this, she 
was careful to explain, she did not mean necessarily things 
that were ugly or people who were poor. Some ugly 
things are really very beautiful, and some poor people are 
far from plain. The only kind of plainness that I object 
to is commonness ; I hate ordinary things.” 

Yet if any one had taken the trouble to note down the 
things that Annabel called “ common,” it would have been 
found that in her eyes these were the inexpensive things, 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


187 


and the girls whom she described as ordinary were usually 
those who were not rich either in money or influential 
connections. 

Julia saw that Ruth’s intimacy with Annabel had made 
a change in her, not altogether to be commended. 

“ I wish you liked Lois Forsaith as well as you like 
Annabel. I do wish that she had a little more fun. She 
takes life so seriously. Really, I can’t understand it. I 
should die, or at least I should want to, if I had as much 
to do.” 

“ She has only four courses this year.” 

“ Gh, I do not mean her studies entirely, but at home. 
She has a certain amount of housework to do. She helps 
her two younger brothers with their lessons, and she always 
has some regular sewing on hand.” 

“ Really ! ” exclaimed Ruth in some surprise. Julia had 
never said much to her about Lois’ family. 

“ They say that Lois would have had the highest record 
in the class last year if she had n’t stayed out to nurse her 
little sister. It was just before the finals, and she had to 
lose one of her examinations.” 

“ Could n’t she make it up ? ” asked Ruth. 

“ Oh, she will have a chance, but of course it makes a 
difference in her year’s record.” 

“ I never feel quite sure of Lois,” said Ruth. “ She al- 
ways has that far-away manner, as if she were looking 
right over your head. I am never sure that she remem- 
bers me.” 

‘‘ Why, I have not noticed that,” responded Julia. “I 


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BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


think her delightful. She shakes hands so warmly, and 
she always says something worth hearing.” 

“ But I don’t think that she ’s a really popular girl.” 

“ That’s not to her discredit. Popularity is no evidence 
of_of — ” 

And Julia hesitated, seemingly at a loss for a word. 

“ True greatness,” interposed Ruth. “ No, popularity is 
not a test of true greatness. But I would not say that 
Lois is unpopular.” 

“If Lois could, she would take a larger part in our 
social life,” added Julia. “ It’s very hard for a girl to live 
at home while she ’s going to college. It ’s like serving 
two masters, and one of them has to suffer. Lois will get 
the most possible out of her studies, but she can’t be 
interested in every little thing.” 

“You’re a regular champion,” and Ruth threw a kiss 
to Julia, as she turned to leave the room. 


XVIII 


WORK AND PLAY 

The added strain of rehearsals was more, perhaps, than 
some of the performers ought to have had. But few of 
them neglected lectures, and they buoyed themselves with 
the hope that all this work would be over before the 
middle of May, when they could devote themselves wholly 
to study. 

Julia, perhaps, felt the strain more than the others. 
To do the operetta justice she gave up many things that 
she would have enjoyed. Rehearsals came so often on 
Fridays that she was rather glad that this year she had 
not attempted to attend the Symphony rehearsals in the 
City. She had taken four tickets for the Cambridge 
course, and Ruth and Mrs. Colton regularly accompanied 
her. The use of the fourth ticket she offered from time 
to time to various girls who had not subscribed for the 
course. 

She had had to draw the line at social gaieties, although 
she made occasional exceptions, as, for instance, in the 
case of the coming-out parties of Brenda and Nora. She 
entered into both of these affairs with the zest of a debu- 
tante, and was greeted cordially by a number of those of 
whom she had seen so much during her first year in 


190 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Boston. But she noticed that some of Brenda’s special 
friends either avoided her or treated her with a deference 
that made her uncomfortable, since her years did not seem 
to warrant it. 

“It’s because you know so much,” Brenda had ex- 
plained. “They’re afraid of you.” 

“ Well, they need n’t be. I’m sure that I never display 
my knowledge, and besides, I have n’t much to display. 
They ’d find it out if they ’d talk with me.” 

“Oh, Julia! You do know a tremendous amount. I 
feel all shrivelled up when I think of it. Besides, every 
one has heard about the operetta. I feel proud enough, I 
can tell you, when any one speaks to me about it. ” 

“You used to object to a learned cousin.” 

“I don’t now, as long as she doesn’t make her learning 
a reproach to me. That ’s one thing very nice about you, 
Julia, you never scold me for not going to college.” 

“You may come to it yet. Besides, you are studying 
this winter, are you not?’' 

“Now, Julia, don’t ask me how many times I ’ve gone 
to my Literature class. There ’s so often a luncheon or 
something more interesting that comes the same day, and 
when there is n’t I ’m too tired to enjoy it. So I ’ve 
missed more or less, but there ’s a Current Events on 
Mondays and I ’m always there. It gives me something 
to talk about, and I ’m thankful enough, with a stupid 
partner, to fall back on Armenian atrocities, or the 
Abolition of the House of Lords, or even the Silver 
Question.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT llADCLIFFE 191 

“A little learning is a dangerous thing,” quoted Julia, 
and Brenda replied brightly: 

“But less is more dangerous, and Nora says — there, 
that reminds me, have you heard of the engagement?” 

“Not Nora’s?” queried Julia. 

“No, indeed. Nora says that she ’s going to Radcliffe 
next year, and she isn’t likely to let herself be interfered 
with by anything so frivolous as an engagement. But 
I should think that you might have guessed. It’s 
Frances.” 

“I ’ve had suspicions,” responded Julia, “from a letter 
Frances wrote me some time ago.” 

“ Yes, she ’s always been so chummy with you since 
that time she thinks you saved her life. But I was sur- 
prised, and isn’t it funny that he’s a minister, at least 
he ’s going to be ? This is his last year in the Divinity 
School. Just imagine Frances a minister’s wife! ” 

“ It would have been harder to imagine a year or two 
ago.” 

“Yes, Frances has changed since that accident, and 
then, of course, he ’s her second cousin — or third — and 
she can do lots of good with her money,” Brenda con- 
cluded somewhat incoherently. 

Although Julia did not go to many parties, she yet had 
more or less enjoyment from certain phases of Boston life. 
Her aunt’s house was still “home,” and thither she went 
every Saturday. Many Radcliffe students, like their 
fellow-students at the University, were surprised to find 
that Saturday was not a holiday, and that only by a skil- 


192 


BRENDA*S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


ful arrangement of courses could one have the day free. 
But on Saturday afternoon, all who could went home or 
paid visits. At her aunt’s behest Julia often took with 
her one guest or another to the Beacon Street house, and 
often after dinner a little party went to a reading, or a 
lecture by some great authority, or to a musicale. Julia 
always regretted that Pamela could so seldom be one of 
her Saturday guests. But Pamela, who, in this her second 
year at Miss Batson’s, was less sensitive than formerly 
about her position, was apt to say laughingly that Sunday 
was her busy day, since all the young ladies were then at 
home. 

She might have added that she never liked to miss the 
Sunday morning service in the little Memorial Chapel be- 
yond the Washington Elm. There, as in other churches, 
seats were reserved for RadclifEe students. The music 
and the liturgy, so unlike the simple Congregational ser- 
vice to which she had been accustomed, rested and helped 
her, and she atoned for departing from the rigid forms of 
her father’s church by holding a little Bible Class at Miss 
Batson’s on Sunday afternoon. There in the dining-room 
she collected three or four small girls from the quarry 
district some distance away, and gave them a helping 
hand, and taught them many things that they could hardly 
have learned from books. No wonder that she could not 
accept Julia’s invitations! If she had had no other rea- 
sons she would have plead that she was not in touch with 
the young circle that gathered in Mrs. Barlow’s hospi- 
table house. Occasionally she went there to dine on 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


193 


Saturday. This was usually after she had paid a visit 
to the Art Museum, where her beloved Tanagra figures 
and the Parthenon friezes still charmed her. She had had 
some scruples this year in electing Fine Arts, for she knew 
that it was considered one of the soft courses chosen by 
certain students more anxious to get marks than to learn. 
But if many other students had taken Fine Arts in 
Pamela’s spirit, it would soon have ceased to be a re- 
proach. For she verified every statement in her text-book, 
and looked up every reference made by her professor, and 
some of her friends laughingly plead with her not to set 
the standard so high, as henceforth every student taking 
the course would be expected to do equally well. 

Pamela was not in the operetta, for the artistic side of 
her nature had not been developed in the direction of 
music. Yet from time to time she looked in at rehearsals. 
She was proud of Julia’s work, for she felt as if no success 
could be too great for one who had been so kind to her. 
She was fond of Polly, too, and she had enough good 
sense not to be offended even when the laugh was directed 
against the class of girls of which she herself was a type. 
For though she was only one of many who were at Rad- 
cliff e for study exclusively, she felt that she could bear a 
little ridicule, since the butterflies themselves were sure 
to come in for a share. 

She was interested, too, in Clarissa’s part in the oper- 
etta ; and although she knew that many otherwise charitable 
girls had held Clarissa in suspicion since the publication of 
the newspaper article, she, too, like Polly, had more faith 

13 


194 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


in the Western girl. She even thought of doing a little 
detective work herself, in a quiet way. 

One mild morning in early May a group of girls stood 
at the foot of the side entrance to Fay House. “ Get your 
hats ! get your hats ! ” cried Polly, approaching the group 
from the house. “ I ’m going home for the largest hat I 
own, and I intend to tie it on with a veil.” 

Clarissa and one or two of the other hatless girls began 
to ask Polly her meaning. But Polly, declining to 
answer, walked off with a paper, apparently a letter, held 
dramatically to her heart. 

Clarissa followed her to the shade of a tree at the edge 
of the tennis ground, and there Polly read the note to her: 

My dear Miss Porson, — May I see you Friday or Satur- 
day between nine and eleven o’clock.” 

And the signature was that of the Dean. 

“Yes,” said Polly reminiscently, “it’s true that I’ve 
been walking hatless to the Square, — like several others 
I could mention,” and she glanced significantly toward 
Clarissa. 

“But you ought to know,” said Elspeth Gray, who had 
joined them, “that that isn’t the thing in a conventional 
place like Cambridge.” 

“Yes, but going without a hat seems to be in the direc- 
tion of the plain living and high thinking toward which 
we’re always encouraged.” 

“ But what did the Dean say to you, Polly ? I cannot 
imagine her being unduly severe.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


195 


“She wasn’t severe. She couldn’t he. I left her 
feeling not that I had been reproved, but simply ad- 
vised.” 

“Was nothing said about sitting on the stairs? I saw 
you on the landing yesterday, and some of our instructors 
complain bitterly of this. They say that it is too much 
like the behavior of schoolgirls, and — ” 

“As long as they express their feelings merely in 
words,” responded Clarissa, “lean bear it. I wish that 
they would bestow our marks upon us in words. A 
postal card is so much harder to bear when it is stamped 
officially, ‘ French Department. Your mark in French 11 
is C.’ The big, blue ‘ C ’ that they make of such an enor- 
mous size, sprawled across the card.” 

“I never mind,” said Elizabeth, who had joined the 
others. 

“Nor would we,” responded Clarissa politely, “if our 
marks, like yours, were most likely ‘A.’ You see the 
postmen, like the policemen and the car conductors in this 
cultured community, set a value on real intellect, and I 
hate to have them know that I am not at the very head of 
my class. I don’t wish to sail under false pretences, but 
I should be happier if my instructors would only spare me 
the big, blue ‘ C.’ It always makes me feel giddy, as the 
English say.” 

“Oh, Clarissa, you’d pun if you were dying.” 

“ Well, I can afford to be cheerful, for I ’ve had an in- 
vitation,” and she read from a card that she drew from a 
note-book, “Le Cercle Fran 9 ais de I’Universit^ Harvard 


196 


BEENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


requests the pleasure of your presence on Tuesday evening, 
May 17/’ 

“ You are in luck. I hear that it is to be a delightful 
affair; but now before we go home for our hats, let us 
stroll over to Vaughan House, and patronize Mrs. Hogan 
and her buns.” 

A luncheon-room had been fitted up in Vaughan House, 
a dwelling recently bought by the Radcliffe Corporation. 
It was only a step from Fay House, across the little cam- 
pus, and both inside and out it preserved the aspect of a 
comfortable dwelling. The lunch-room, to be sure, had 
small wood tables of true restaurant style and a counter; 
and the coffee and chocolate were drawn from metal 
reservoirs, with spigots, in true restaurant fashion. 

The three friends, for Elizabeth had not come with 
them, sat at a table beside an old graduate, who was 
spending the year in Cambridge for post-graduate work. 

“Why, it doesn’t seem long,” she said, “since we used 
to carry our own sandwiches to Fay House in a little 
pasteboard box, and feel extremely thankful for the cup 
of hot tea or chocolate brought by the housekeeper to the 
little room back of the conversation room. If she went off 
before we could pay her, we would hide our dimes or half- 
dimes in the sugar bowl, and she always trusted us as we 
trusted her.” 

“ Can you remember the very beginning of Radcliffe ? ” 
asked Polly, “ when it was called ‘ The Annex ’ ? ” 

“I wasn’t here myself, then,” said the other, smiling; 
“that was in 1879, but my sister came a year or two later, 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


197 


when the classes met either at the houses of the professors 
or in the little house in Appian Way. The library, I 
believe, comprised two or three shelves of books in another 
house, and a course with half a dozen students was con- 
sidered extremely large.” 

“Just think of it! ” 

“ My own experience goes back to 1886 when we moved 
into Fay House. But it was so different then. I some- 
times wonder if you students of to-day realize your 
advantages.” 

“I rather think that we have more fun,” said Polly. 
“I am afraid that you used to take life too seriously.” 

The older girl smiled. 

“We had to be very much in earnest because we felt 
that if we made our college work secondary to social inter- 
ests we were likely to be criticised. The college girl was 
not so numerous then as she is now, and she was a target 
for almost any one who wished to criticise her. But I 
don’t blame you undergraduates for getting all the fun 
you can, and your music and your athletics in many ways 
must be very beneficial.” 

“ She means you, Clarissa. She has heard what an orna- 
ment you are to the R. A. A.,” cried Polly. 

“Oh, no; you mean Polly, do you not?” asked Clarissa 
of the graduate. “You have heard of her prowess as an 
actor, and then you know she ’s written nearly all the 
book for the operetta. The rest of us have just put in a 
few jokes.” 

“I have had my eye on you both,” responded the older 


198 


BKENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


girl, “and I approve of you, for you have not yet begun 
to make study secondary to fun.” 

Nor was the graduate wrong in her criticism. While 
work may have been to a certain extent neglected by the 
actors and singers in the operetta in the weeks immedi- 
ately preceding the performance, they all knew that when 
the rehearsals were over they would work with redoubled 
energy. 

The advance sale of tickets was so good that Ruth went 
about with a beaming face. She was interested in the 
North End reading-room to a rather unusual extent, and 
had set her heart on their clearing five hundred dollars 
from the two performances. 

A week before the last rehearsal Julia had asked Ange- 
lina to spend all her time in Cambridge. There were so 
many little things that she could do in helping the girls 
about their costuming that it seemed as well to have her 
near for a week or two. Angelina could be spared, and 
Julia knew that the week or two in Cambridge would be 
almost as thoroughly a treat to her as a trip to New York 
to many another girl. Angelina had become more recon- 
ciled to her life at Shiloh, although she still continued to 
say frankly that she would prefer the city. Yet she had 
so enjoyed being of acknowledged use to her mother, and 
Julia had so praised her for her growing skill in house- 
keeping, that she was almost reconciled to her quiet life. 
All “ The Four ” had continued their interest in the Rosas. 
Brenda and Nora had provided their Christmas tree, with 
assistance, of course, from Julia. Julia had planned a 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


199 


little collection of books arranged in two or three small 
travelling libraries for the use of the Rosas and their 
neighbors, and when a check of good size came from 
Edith, to be applied to the use of the family, there was 
hardly any evident need to supply. 

Edith and her parents were in Europe. They had felt 
keenly the fact that Philip had left college under a cloud, 
and it was even rumored that they might stay away an- 
other year. Julia, naturally enough, thought often of 
Philip, for that last interview with him had been rather 
thrilling, and while many of her friends were planning for 
the coming Class Day, she had made up her mind to leave 
Cambridge as soon as she could after the examinations. 
“If I live through the operetta,’’ she said to herself, for 
she felt the strain of the last rehearsals. When she 
thought of Philip, putting even the most charitable con- 
struction on his silence, it seemed as if he might have 
written to her. 

Indeed it was only by a chance word dropped by Nora 
and other girls that she heard anything about him. They 
had their information from their brothers or some of their 
friends. Julia herself might have heard more directly 
had she been willing to bring up Philip’s name to Tom 
Hearst or some of his friends. But she would not ask 
questions, feeling as she did that Philip might have kept 
her informed of his whereabouts. Yet she knew that he 
had spent the most of the winter on a ranch in South 
Dakota, not so very far from the Black Hills ; and when 
reports of the extreme cold in that region came to Eastern 


200 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


readers, she wondered how Philip enjoyed this rather hard 
life — Philip who had been used to all the luxuries pro- 
vided for a rich man’s son at Harvard. But Philip did 
not write, and Julia would not ask even Ruth about him, 
although Ruth and Will Hardon were great friends. 


XIX 


THE OPERETTA 

It was the last rehearsal but one, not the dress rehearsal, 
but the “half-dressed rehearsal,” as Clarissa called it. 
At the dress rehearsal a large number of undergraduates, 
and special friends of the performers were to be admitted, 
and then was to come the performance from which so 
much was hoped. But the dress rehearsal would be so 
much like a real performance that the present occasion 
was regarded as something very important. 

Nearly all the chorus were wearing the short peasant 
skirt, and strutted about seeming on the whole well pleased 
with their own appearance. But the prima donnas were 
in ordinary attire, for their bespangled robes were too 
elaborate to be dragged about on the dusty stage. Polly 
and Ruth in bicycle skirts were rushing among the players, 
now giving directions to this one, then to that. 

“You must stand better, and do come nearer to the 
front; and when Miss Harmon is singing, look toward 
her. You are supposed to be hanging on every word of 
hers (which we ’re not usually in reality).” 

The last words, of course, were sotto voce^ and the 
chorus for the time being made a great effort to obey the 
energetic Ruth, Occasionally some girl, forgetting how 


202 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


much depended on her, would draw her neighbor aside 
for a t§te-k-t8te, to the great annoyance of the energetic 
managers. 

Julia, in her chair in the centre of the floor below the 
stage, held the score, and from time to time contributed 
her word of criticism. But she was glad enough to have 
Clarissa and Annabel and Polly and Ruth bear the most 
responsibility, as it troubled her to have to pay too much 
attention to details. Clarissa and Annabel were lovers in 
the play, and to Polly this seemed rather ridiculous, feel- 
ing as she did that she had special insight into the dislike 
of Annabel for Clarissa. Clarissa, however, seemed un- 
aware that Annabel was less than friendly; and although 
the latter was not always as perfectly amiable as the Prin- 
cess in a light opera ought to be, the rehearsals had, on 
the whole, passed off pretty well. Polly herself, as it 
happened, was almost the centre of interest in the play. 
This had come about by accident rather than by actual 
intention on the part of Julia. She was a disguised 
Queen, disguised as a youth of humble birth, who had 
escaped from court for a frolic, whose grace and wit 
carried everything before her. Although she was appar- 
ently Clarissa’s rival for a while, everything was explained 
when at the very end her disguise was revealed. The 
operetta abounded in pleasing duets, bright dialogues, and 
witty hits and gibes. But the jokes and hits were never 
bitter nor purely personal. They were directed against 
the peculiarities of certain groups of students rather than 
against the students themselves. Cambridge, too, came 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


203 


in for its share of ridicule, although the jokes on this 
subject were rather threadbare, as they had all been used 
in other years by Harvard or Radcliffe undergraduates, in 
their dramatic performances or college publications. 

On the whole, it was a composite production rather 
than the work of any one individual. Even in the matter 
of the music, Julia had accepted more than one suggestion 
made by her friends, and in one or two instances she had 
composed the words of the lyric, while Polly had composed 
the music. In the work of composing and arranging the 
operetta there had been really no friction, and all had been 
eager to make the affair a success. On this day, when the 
final performances were so near, there was hardly a girl 
who did not rejoice that they had come to the end of their 
weeks of work. Ruth was particularly gratified as they 
turned away from the hall. She gave a hop, skip, and a 
jump, undignified, perhaps, for a Sophomore, though ex- 
pressive of her feeling. 

“ Hundreds of dollars I ” she cried. “ My dreams have 
been filled with them since yesterday, and we have sold 
nearly all our tickets.” 

“But there will be expenses, dear child. You mustn’t 
forget that, ” said Polly, who was one of the group. 

“ Oh, of course, but there will be enough left. I ’m 
glad, too, that the whole performance will be so creditable, 
and we ought to be thankful enough that no one has been 
ill, or for any other reason obliged to give up her part. 
Anything like that would drive me to distraction, for we 
have no understudies.” 


204 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“Oh,” said Julia, “every one has given every one else 
so much advice that I am sure that any one who has 
watched the rehearsals could take the part of some other 
girl at a moment’s notice.” 

“ I ’m not so sure,” responded Ruth, accepting her friend 
more seriously than the latter intended. “ One or two of 
the parts might, perhaps, be taken, but not Polly’s. She 
puts a new touch in at almost every rehearsal, and hon- 
estly, 1 think that she has made the thing the success that 
it is. Excuse me, Julia, I didn’t mean that we owe more 
to the performers than to the composer.” 

“Why, indeed,” replied Julia, “I understand exactly 
what you mean, and it is fortunate that Polly’s father was 
not as ill as she feared a week or two ago, for if she had 
had to go South it would have made a great difference 
to us.” 

Nor were the girls wrong in their expectations. The 
dress rehearsal went off with all the sparkle and life 
that they had hoped. The regular performance they felt 
to be a more trying occasion than the rehearsal, for the 
audience included so many persons from Boston, as well 
as from Cambridge, whose judgment carried great weight. 
But critical or not, they were thoroughly appreciative of 
the pretty operetta. More than once were the singers and 
actora called before the curtain; and had Julia not been 
too modest, she, too, would have answered the calls that 
were made for her. Some of those who were not ardent 
admirers of Annabel were pleased that she did not — 
apparently could not — eclipse Polly and Clarissa. Sweet 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


205 


though her voice was, it was not powerful, and her self- 
consciousness often spoiled the effect of her acting. 
Brenda, of course, was at the play, and a large party of 
her gay young friends from the City. In the party were 
Tom and Will and a number of college men, and Julia, 
sitting among them, felt that she was almost as merry in 
spirit as they. Yet more than the praises of these young 
people, Julia appreciated those of her uncle and aunt who 
sat in the tier of seats just behind; for her aunt was 
apparently satisfied by the commendation she received for 
the operetta that her devotion to her work was not going 
to separate her entirely from young people of her own age. 

“ But this operetta, my dear, is on the whole so frivo- 
lous that I have some hope that college is not going to 
deprive you entirely of your interest in society.” 

At the close of the performance, as the actors stood 
behind the scenes listening to the commendations of their 
friends, a telegraph messenger pushed his way among them 
with a dispatch for Polly. 

Polly’s color faded as she heard him ask for her, and 
she turned to Julia with an appealing “Bead it” as she 
laid the slip of yellow paper in her hand. 

Quickly grasping its contents, Julia threw her arms 
around her friend. 

“Come, my carriage is ready.” 

But the carriage did not appear for more than five min- 
utes, during which Polly’s sobs were painful to hear. 

“It’s her father,” explained Clarissa to a group of 
girls who had withdrawn some distance from the weep- 


206 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


ing Polly. “He died this morning, according to the 
telegram.” 

“ This morning ! ” cried one of the girls. “ Then it ’s a 
wonder that she was n’t notified earlier. Why, it takes no 
time for a telegram to travel from Atlanta to Boston. ” 

“ A telegram ! ” cried Ruth, who had just come behind 
the scenes; “why, that reminds me. But what’s the 
matter with Polly?” 

“ Why, she ’s just had news of her father’s death, and 
she must feel dreadfully to think that she has been acting 
this evening, for he died, they say, this morning.” 

While Elspeth was speaking Ruth had turned very pale. 
She put her hand in her little velvet chatelaine and drew out 
a yellow envelope, apparently another telegram. Without 
a word to the others she walked up to Polly and Julia. 

“This is a telegram that came early in the evening, 
before we began; you ought to have had it.” 

But Polly did not wait for further explanation ; she tore 
open the envelope. Then after reading the telegram, she 
thrust it inside her dress. 

“I cannot forgive you,” she cried. “How could you 
let me sing ? My father died to-day, and what will they 
think of me when they hear that I sang just the same ! I 
will not forgive you. ” 

The stern words were followed by violent sobs. 

This outburst was so unlike the lively, amiable Polly 
that her friends were only too glad when Julia’s carriage 
was announced; and leaning on Clarissa’s arm, she was 
led away, closely followed by Julia. 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


207 


The girls who were left behind speculated as to what 
Polly would do; whether she would start for home imme- 
diately ; whether her feeling would continue to be bitter 
toward Ruth for withholding the telegram. 

“Yet it doesn’t seem altogether like Ruth,” said 
Elspeth. “Fond as I am of Polly, I feel that there may 
be some mistake. I am sure that Ruth could not have 
known about the telegram ; could not possibly have held 
it from Polly if she knew what was in it. ” 

But unluckily among those whose thoughts were favor- 
able to Ruth, Julia was not to be counted. Her disap- 
proval of Ruth’s intimacy with Annabel now seemed to 
have been well founded. She felt sure that unintentionally 
Ruth had adopted Annabel’s rather easy standards of duty 
to others. “The greatest good of the greatest number,” 
Annabel was apt to offer as an excuse for some action 
which other girls called selfish. For when criticised she 
would try to prove that while one or perhaps two girls 
were injured by something that she had said or done, an 
indefinite number of indefinite people would approve, 
and therefore might be benefited by it. Annabel had a 
smattering of philosophy, as she had of other subjects, 
obtained before studying them ; and had she learned more 
of the philosopher whom she quoted almost unconsciously, 
she would have known that above all other rules he set 
the Golden Rule. To do unto others as she would have 
others do to her was certainly not a guiding star of Anna- 
bel’s conduct. 

Thus, after all, there had been an element of tragedy in 


208 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


the operetta that had once meant only sunshine to those 
who were working and planning for it. Polly Porson, 
speeding Southward, would have felt doubly forlorn had 
not Clarissa been with her. For the Western girl had 
insisted on going with her friend, and though her absence 
from Cambridge at this time meant some loss in the com- 
ing examinations, she would not have listened had any one 
attempted to dissuade her from going. She did her part, 
too, in softening Polly’s feeling toward Ruth, and she was 
surprised to find how earnestly she could champion the 
cause of a girl who had so often seemed anything but 
friendly toward her. But while she knew that Ruth had 
taken no pains to conceal a certain dislike for her, she 
realized that it was a case of mere personal antipathy, 
unaccountable, perhaps, as such things often are, or to be 
accounted for by the fact that in every way the two girls 
had received a very different training. 

“But I ’m sure that Ruth wouldn’t do a mean thing, 
and to have kept that telegram from you would have been 
mean beyond description.” 

Polly, absorbed in her sorrow, and thinking more about 
the meeting with her mother and little sisters, had little 
to say, although firmly fixed in her mind was the thought 
that Ruth really had served her own ends by holding the 
telegram from her. 

Clarissa was soon back at Cambridge, and by good luck 
lost not a single examination through her absence. She 
would not even admit that her sudden trip, by interfering 
with her study, had lowered her standing. When the blue- 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


209 


books were all in she was able to announce triumphantly 
that her average was higher than ever before. “Which 
proves,” she had said to Elspeth, “that cramming is a 
luxury and not a necessity.” 

Julia did not stay in Cambridge this spring for either 
the Radcliffe or the Harvard Class Days. She went with 
her aunt and Brenda to New Haven for the ball game, 
where Arthur Weston was their host; and although he 
was as polite as he could be, Julia knew that all his inter- 
est was really in Brenda. Arthur, whose brother had 
married Brenda’s sister, was fond of calling Brenda sister- 
in-law, and for the same reason he had adopted Julia as a 
cousin. By a strange coincidence, he, like Philip, had 
failed to take his degree the preceding June. This was 
due to ill-health, which had kept him from college part of 
the year. But unlike Philip, he had been willing to take 
his place with the next class, and indeed seemed as well 
pleased as if graduating with his own class. Brenda’s 
disposition, too, was as volatile as Arthur’s, and she 
carried a blue parasol, wore blue flowers, and altogether 
seemed to have forgotten the existence of Harvard and 
her former love for Harvard red. It was hard for 
Julia to understand such heartlessness as this, — for 
so she had to regard it, — as until very lately all Brenda’s 
college feeling had been for Harvard. Yet Brenda her- 
self would not admit that it was really a strong personal 
preference for Arthur that had made her forego her 
Harvard allegiance. She fell back on the excuse of rela- 
tionship, and on the fact that she had caused the accident 

14 


210 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


which had finally resulted in Arthur’s losing a year at 
college. 

“ For although he knows that it was an accident, still it 
certainly was my bicycle that hurt his foot, and I ought to 
make up by showing all the interest I can in his college. 
Between us, ” she added confidentially, “ I think that Har- 
vard Class Day is really more fun; still, I ’m having about 
the best time of my life here at New Haven, although I 
do not quite see why it should be.” 

But Julia understood, and Mrs. Barlow understood, 
and they smiled indulgently when they saw the two young 
people strolling off under the New Haven elms. 

When the gaiety of the late spring was over, Julia was 
glad to be back again at Rockley. She needed rest, and 
she had the good sense to spend her summer quietly. In 
the early autumn, with her aunt and uncle, she made a 
tour of the mountains, and the keen air put her in even 
better trim for her autumn’s work. 


XX 


JUNIORS 

To follow all the happenings in the college course would 
take more time than may well be given now. The begin- 
ning of the Junior year found Julia and her friends all so 
accustomed to college life that they could hardly imagine 
themselves existing without a well-planned scheme of 
work. As Juniors, they were more constantly deferred to 
by the girls in the two lower classes, and they could not 
but realize that they were near the Senior class, and that 
at the end of another year they would be almost at the 
end of their college course. Many new girls wandered 
about the halls of Fay House, and among them Julia was 
delighted to have Nora included, for Ruth and Julia had 
not fully made up their misunderstanding of the spring. 
If they had spent the summer together, things might have 
been different. But they had been separated for a longer 
time than ever before since their friendship began; and 
while neither reproached the other, both realized the 
coolness between them. 

Nora was only a Special student, and she always referred 
to her studies in rather humble tones. But she worked 
zealously, and confided to Julia that she might possibly 
enter the regular course, and end by studying medicine. 


212 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


if her parents would only consent. But Julia, though she 
did not doubt Nora’s sincerity, still realized that there 
were many things that might prevent her carrying out 
these rather impossible plans. 

Polly, in sombre black and somewhat quieter in manner, 
was still Polly, and she and Clarissa were constantly 
together. With Julia and Lois she was always cordial, 
and she still continued to tease Pamela whenever the 
occasion presented. But at sight of Ruth her flow of 
words always ceased. It was plain that she found it very 
hard to forgive. 

This year Annabel and Ruth were a little less intimate 
than formerly. Yet this did not bring Julia and Ruth 
any nearer. They still roomed together, still went back 
and forth to Fay House together. Those who knew them 
best did not realize that anything had come between them. 
But they themselves, while realizing the change, would 
not touch on the subject that lay so near their hearts. 
The spot on the apple, the rift in the lute, of these and 
many other similes Julia often thought, but she would 
not take the first step to mend the breach. She waited for 
Ruth’s explanation, and Ruth waited for Julia’s apology, 
and each day the two moved farther away from each other. 

As to Polly, in some way she and Ruth contrived never 
to meet face to face, a feat not impossible, since they 
happened to have none of the same courses, and since 
Polly’s mourning for her father kept her from taking an 
active part in the social life of the college. 

There were various changes in the grouping of those 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 213 

girls who had been most together in their first two 
years. 

Pamela alone, among those whom we have known the 
best, went on her way undisturbed. She had not been 
present at the little outbreak at the close of the operetta. 
In a general way she knew that there had been trouble, 
but she had asked no questions about it. In any case, she 
would have been sure that Julia was entirely right. Her 
summer, spent as before in tutoring, had helped greatly to 
free her from care. The scholarship, again awarded to 
her, the two Boston boys whom she was to tutor twice a 
week in Greek, had made her third year at Radcliffe a 
certainty. She continued to live at Miss Batson’s; and 
although her duties were lighter and she had a room to 
herself, the good boarding-house keeper declined the 
weekly payment that Pamela conscientiously offered. 

“ If you had a room twice as big as that little attic, and 
on the first floor front, it would just be a comfort to have 
you here, without your paying a cent. All my young 
ladies say they have just been getting culture ever since 
you came here, and that ’s worth more than money to all 
of us.” 

So Pamela felt herself to be almost rich, as she gathered 
her treasures about her in the little French-roofed chamber. 
Chief among them was a Tanagra figurine, a replica of the 
lady with the hat that Julia had insisted on her accepting 
the year before. On the shelf below were her Dante 
books, and near them some of her father’s Greek books, 
as well as those that she used in her own classes. 


214 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Under the great professor, who in this country stands for 
the study of Dante, she was reaching heights even more 
blissful than those reached through her study of Greek. 

As to Clarissa, she and Polly each had a grievance, and 
each was bound to help the other right a wrong — or per- 
haps I should say, each meant to help right the other’s 
wrong. Polly kept her eye on Annabel, and Clarissa — 
well, Clarissa had a theory that in time she hoped to prove 
true. 

There were many girls, unluckily, who looked on Clarissa 
with decided disfavor, believing her the author of the 
objectionable article ; or at the best, they thought that she 
had unwisely let others use her note-book improperly. Two 
or three little coteries, therefore, some of them made up of 
very agreeable girls, were inclined to avoid Clarissa. So 
Polly, realizing this state of affairs, was all the more 
anxious to prove that her friend had been wronged. But 
how prove it? 

One morning half a dozen girls clustered before the 
bulletin board. The assortment of notices touched every 
side of college life. One in which Polly Porson had had 
a large part read : 

Freshmen and New Specials 
are 

Cordially invited by the Juniors to a reception, Wednesday, 
October 31, in the Auditorium, at 4.30 p.m. 

Polly’s part had consisted of the dainty pen-and-ink 
drawing showing at the top a vivacious girl with arms 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


215 


extended, while at the side was a troop of smaller girls, 
presumably the Freshmen and Specials, with accompany- 
ing verses: 

“ School is over, oh, what fun ! 

Lessons finished, work begun. 

Who ’ll laugh gayest ? Let us try. 

Who ’ll talk loudest, you or I ? ” 

Near by was a card giving information about the College 
Settlement Association, and others announcing a trial of 
voices for the Glee and Choral Clubs. But most con- 
spicuous of all were the notices of the various athletic clubs, 
and these notices seemed to awaken a lively discussion 
among the girls standing before the board. 

“ R. A. A. — Will all who wish to join please pay,” 

read one of them, adding, “ Oh, I We joined and paid, too. 
I ’m more interested in the basket ball.” 

“Well, the managers mean business,” added another, 
pointing to a notice : 

“ Basket Ball, 189 — 

“ Great need of candidates. All that can, come out and 
try for the teams, whether they played last year or not.” 

“ That is n’t for me,” said one of the girls, who happened 
to be a Sophomore. 

“We ’re going to have a strong team this year.” 

“Oh, yes,” continued a classmate, “the Juniors can’t 
do a thing to us unless Miss Hert — ” 


216 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“ Hush ! ” exclaimed the first speaker, and turning her 
head slightly, the second girl saw Clarissa and Pamela 
approaching, arm in arm. 

But as the two friends disappeared in the distance, a 
third girl, a Junior, said, “ Yes, Clarissa ’s the girl we want 
but Alma Stacey is determined — ” 

“ I know that she ’s been pretty severe toward Clarissa.” 

“ Well, Annabel says — ” 

“ Oh, Annabel — ” 

“ Well, Annabel says that she believes that Clarissa would 
do almost anything after playing that trick on her.” 

“ What, about Mr. Radcliffe, the so-caUed Mr. Radcliffe ? ” 

Polly at this moment had passed them a second time, 
although now without Clarissa. 

Quickly guessing the subject of their conversation, she 
interposed. 

“ Oh, breathes there a Radcliffe girl so silly as to think 
that Clarissa had anything to do with that book-plate 
affair?” 

Whereupon the others, Juniors and Sophomores, admitted 
that they had not wholly believed Clarissa responsible for 
Annabel’s discomfiture, although one of them added that 
there seemed little doubt that Clarissa had sanctioned the 
newspaper article. Yet, if Polly could not make an adequate 
reply to this (for not yet had she completed her detective 
work), she assured them that Clarissa was so popular that 
she had been urged to join the basket ball team, and that 
through her the class was to reach a pinnacle of fame in 
athletics. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


217 


Indeed, during this year it seemed as if athletic rather 
than scholastic glory was the thing most sought for. The 
new Gymnasium had given an impetus to all kinds of 
athletics, and with the increasing size of the classes, the 
long-delayed class spirit was beginning to develop. 

Julia was a spectator at the Athletic Reception given by 
the Freshmen, and she laughed and applauded all the 
sports from the potato races to some of those trials of 
skill that required great proficiency. She had sprained 
her ankle very slightly soon after college opened, and this 
prevented her usual gymnasium work. 

It was natural that there should be many little coteries 
at Radchffe, and that some should be more devoted than 
others to study, and others more devoted to the lighter 
side of college life. Julia, now that she and Ruth were 
less inseparable, found herself turning more and more to 
Lois, and for Lois she began to feel even more sympathy 
than for Pamela. Although Pamela had had to struggle, 
she stiU had been able on the whole to carry out her plans. 
Lois, on the other hand, had constantly been obliged to 
contend with an unsympathetic family. Her mother 
thought that on leaving the High School she ought to 
have been contented with a year in a training school. 
This would at once have fitted her for pubhc school 
teaching. Money certainly was needed in the family, and 
Lois was not selfish. Yet when a relative, appreciative of 
her talent and ambition, offered her the money for the 
four years’ tuition at RadclifPe, she felt it to be not only a 
privilege, but a duty to accept. Lois in accepting, how- 


218 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


ever, in the midst of her college work had constantly the 
feeling that she ought to consider her family more. It 
was indeed a difficult task to which she had set herself, 
to be both the dutiful daughter at home and the college 
student keeping her studies of first importance. It was 
the old story of trying to serve two masters; she was 
unable completely to please her family, and she lost much 
of the joy of college life because she could give so little 
time to the pleasant idling in which a girl must indulge if 
she wishes to be popular. 

Even to herself, Lois perhaps never said that she wished 
to be popular. Yet she had an inborn spirit of leadership; 
and if she had listened to the urgings of her friends, she 
would have allowed herself to be a candidate for the Idler 
Presidency. 

“ It ’s perfectly useless,” she remonstrated. “ I have n’t 
the time, I have n’t the least chance of success. Besides, 
a great many other girls are much better fitted for the 
office. Honestly, I don’t think that I have a single 
qualification.” 

“ Ah, but you ’d make such an ornamental President,” 
said Polly teasingly, knowing that this was the least 
sensible argument to use, for Lois not only seemed 
quite unconscious of her own attractiveness, but disliked 
these frivolous remarks. Yet although Polly spoke thus 
teasingly, she was in earnest in what she said. 

“I haven’t enough energy myself to electioneer,” she 
had said to J ulia, “ but I ’m going to make myself as agree- 
able as I can to everybody ; and if you will help, and if 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


219 


Clarissa will help, and in fact if every one will help, why, 
Lois shall be the Idler President.” 

“ Naturally, if every one helps,” and Julia smiled ; “ but 
of course you can count on me, for I should be only too 
glad to see Lois loaded with honors. I consider her the 
very ablest girl in the class. What a credit she ’ll be to 
us on the Commencement platform, with second-year 
honors, and a summa cum^ and probably with a prize or 
two thrown in!” 

Polly, if the truth were known, was perhaps more 
anxious to have Lois regarded as a probable candidate 
because she had heard that Annabel was also turning her 
thoughts in the direction of this office. Therefore, early 
and late, and without making her efforts too evident, she 
tried to create a sentiment in favor of Lois, so that when 
the election should come, it would seem the most natural 
thing in the world for her to be chosen. 

On the whole, in this its Junior year the class was more 
united than ever before. At the Junior luncheon, more 
than one of those who responded to the toasts called at- 
tention to this fact. Annabel was still Class President, 
and indeed most of the class officers remained the same. 
But I am not sure that Polly would have admitted that 
this was a real sign of class unity. Annabel was still a 
conspicuous figure at the Idler theatricals, and she had 
even written a little play herself. Some of her admirers 
said that it contained passages that were wittier than any- 
thing in the operetta. But the authors of the operetta, 
composer and librettist, were not disturbed when this was 


220 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


repeated to them. Julia was not ambitious to shine again 
as a composer, at least for the present. Her very success 
had made her realize her own limitations, and she decided 
to make no further effort in this direction until she had 
perfected herself in the underlying principles. Nor did 
Polly intend to appear before the world as a full-fledged 
author. So the praise of Annabel, as sung by her special 
admirers, did not disturb her. 

A few of the girls who were especially fond of society 
went out more than during the first two years. Some 
attended the Cambridge Assemblies, and an energetic 
group arranged a series of Junior dances, which, sanctioned 
by those in authority, proved altogether delightful. Julia 
attended the Assemblies largely because Brenda urged her 
to, and Brenda and a crowd of young people from town 
came out to them. 

Clarissa went to the Junior dances, but she was not 
sufficiently in society to be asked to the Assemblies. 
Clarissa, however, had a faculty of enjoying herself at all 
times, and she did not show that she felt certain slights 
offered her, notably that of keeping her off the team. 

In the natural course of events, she should have been 
chosen captain, but the influence of Alma Stacey was 
strong, and Clarissa was not even on the team. 

But college festivities were not the only pleasures offered 
the girls. Not a few of the class who lived at home in 
Boston or Cambridge or the suburbs entertained at their 
own houses. An occasional tea, an evening of private 
theatricals, all these things relieved delightfully the mo- 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


221 


no tony of study. Yet to a popular girl they offered great 
temptations for wasting time, and in college life, as in the 
outside world, it was hard to draw the line between neces- 
sary and unnecessary amusements. But when a wave of 
whist swept through the class, some of the more sedate 
began to protest. 

“ Oh, but it strengthens the mind, it really does,” 
pleaded Polly, when Julia remonstrated; “and you know 
I ’m not dancing — or anything,” glancing down at her 
black gown. 

“Yes, but afternoon whist parties, and two or three of 
them a week ! Why, you will soon have no mind for 
anything else.” 

“ Oh, I ’m not so sure of that, though it ’s time to 
begin to study a little, as the mid-years are coming. But 
you look so sad over it, Julia, that I may swear off, like 
our old friend Rip.” 

“ I hope that it will be a different kind of swearing off 
from Rip’s. Otherwise — ” 

“ Well, it shall be otherwise for the rest of the year, so 
far as whist is concerned, so worry no longer, fair creature,” 
and Polly went away laughing. 


XXI 


A FORTUNATE ACCIDENT 

One morning in January Lois entered Fay House with 
what Clarissa would have called a “ long-drawn face, ’’ and 
with traces of tears in her eyes. She had a letter in her 
hand, crumpled shapelessly. 

The postman had given it to her as she was leaving her 
house in Newton, and she had been carrying it without 
realizing that she had it. Now, as she drew off her 
gloves, she saw the letter, and as she smoothed it out, 
again her eyes filled with tears. 

To a certain extent the letter seemed like a death war- 
rant, for it contained news that the relative who had been 
paying Lois’ tuition could do so no longer, and that not 
even the payment for the second half-year would be forth- 
coming. This to Lois meant that with the mid-years 
her Radcliffe work must end. Moreover, recent family 
troubles made it almost necessary that it should end. 
The required sum was not so very large, but for Lois it 
' was absolutely unattainable. It was too late in the year 
for a scholarship award, and indeed the idea of holding a 
scholarship was distasteful to her. There was no one from 
whom she could borrow, no one to whom she was willing 
to confide her private affairs. She knew that there were 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


223 


schools in some of the smaller towns where she would be 
accepted as a teacher even without the college degree, and 
immediately she decided she would go to an agency to 
learn where there might be a vacancy. 

Among all her classmates Julia was the only one to 
whom she would have been at all willing to confide her 
trouble, and yet Julia was the very one to whom she could 
not go, because Julia was the one who might have helped 
her. To have told Julia of her difficulty would have 
seemed to her too much like asking a favor — an impos- 
sible thing to one of her proud spirit. 

Lois carried her burden without speaking of it for sev- 
eral days. She meant to say nothing until the mid-years 
were over. She intended to keep up her courage to the 
end. She studied all the harder, for she meant these mid- 
year examinations to be the best that she had ever had. 
She meant to reach the highest possible mark. For al- 
though she intended to return to college when she had saved 
enough money, she knew that happy day might yet be 
some distance away. One day soon after she had received 
the letter that had so disturbed her, Lois remained rather 
late at Fay House. She had been at work in the library, 
for the next day the examinations would begin, and it 
happened that the most important was to come on that 
first morning. At home that evening she would finish 
the review of a certain very important book. She felt 
that she had not yet given it sufficient attention, and she 
realized that much depended on her understanding two or 
three difficult chapters. Passing through the hall where 


224 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


groups of merry girls were coming out from some Fresh- 
man celebration in the Auditorium, Lois, with a head 
throbbing from hard study, decided to walk for a mile or 
two before taking the car. As she walked along trying 
to solve a problem that touched on her examination, for- 
getting for the time the more personal cares that had 
weighed her down lately, she turned into a side street 
that took her a little out of her course. In the spring and 
early autumn she was fond of this street, because of two 
or three old-fashioned gardens upon whose quaint flowers 
she loved to gaze. The street was lonely and the houses 
far apart, and Lois began to walk more rapidly. In the 
faint light, for it was now almost dark, Lois paused for a 
moment to look over the fence of one of the old gardens. 
Near a tall tree in the corner in summer there was a bed 
of lilies of the valley that she had often stopped to admire. 
Now as she leaned absent-mindedly on the fence for a min- 
ute, she thought that she heard a groan as of some one in 
pain. Hastily pushing open the gate she heard the sounds 
growing louder as she approached the house. There were 
no lights in the windows, but stepping bravely up on the 
little piazza she entered the half-open door. She stumbled 
as she entered, and reaching down she touched a warm, 
breathing face. 

“ Help me ! ” cried a faint voice, and then another deep 
groan. A faint light came from a back room, and Lois, 
quick-witted, hurried in there, and in a second returned 
with matches. When she had lit the gas-jet in the hall, 
she saw that the sufferer was an elderly woman whom she 







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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


225 


had often noticed in the garden, and had seen occasionally 
at Radcliffe functions. Lois was tall and strong, and the 
sufferer was slight, so without delay she lifted her to a 
couch in the sitting-room. 

“ It ’s my foot, ” moaned the sufferer. 

“I ’ll go for a doctor at once,” said Lois, “but first I 
must put on a cold compress. It ’s evidently a bad sprain. 
There seem to be no bones broken,” she concluded, finish- 
ing her examination. 

Stripping up a cover from a pillow in an easy-chair, and 
finding her way to the running water in the kitchen, Lois 
made the bandage and put it on with a professional air. 

Few words had passed between them, but as she left the 
room, “Dr. Brown,” said the sick woman. 

“Yes,” responded Lois, “I was going for him.” 

It was not far to the physician’s house, and when he 
had examined the foot he pronounced it, as Lois had, 
merely a bad sprain. 

“My maid won’t be back until eleven o’clock,” said the 
sick woman. “I let her go to Woburn.” 

“I can get a nurse,” responded the doctor. “You 
mustn’t be left alone.” 

“I won’t have a nurse about me. You ’ve often heard 
me say that, ” cried Miss Ambrose petulantly. 

“But you can’t be left alone,” rejoined the doctor 
firmly. 

Miss Ambrose looked at Lois appealingly. 

“Let me stay with you!” exclaimed Lois impulsively, 
forgetting her examinations, forgetting the important re- 

15 


226 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


view, forgetting everything but the fact that before her lay 
a suffering human being whom she might help. 

‘‘Would I be of use?” she asked, when the doctor did 
not immediately reply. 

“ Of use ! ” he exclaimed. “ I should say so ; a girl 
who knows just what to do with a sprained ankle.” 

So it was arranged that a telegram at Miss Ambrose’s 
expense should be sent to Lois’ family, saying that she 
would stay all night, and the physician’s name, Lois knew, 
would assure her mother that it was a case of necessity. 
“ Illness of a friend, ” he had put in the telegram, leaving 
it to Lois to make explanations when she reached home. 

After the doctor left, the sick woman lay silent with 
her eyes closed — whether half asleep or not Lois could 
not tell. She had refused Lois’ offer of assistance in put- 
ting her to bed, saying that she would be more comfortable 
on the lounge until her maid should come. 

As Lois watched her lying there, her regular features 
outlined against the pillow, her pale face looking even 
paler, surrounded with a mass of sandy, gray-streaked 
hair, the strangeness of the situation occurred to her, as it 
had not at first. Then she began to realize that she ought 
not to play Good Samaritan at this time, for it came back 
to her with overpowering force that this was the eve of an 
examination, that she really depended on these last few 
hours of review. Well! there was no reason why she 
should not study here, though the light was rather dim. 

As she turned toward the door to bring her books from 
a table in the hall. Miss Ambrose started. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


227 


“Don’t leave me! ” she cried. 

“No, no, indeed.” Lois had quickly returned with the 
book under her arm. 

“You are a student,” said the invalid, now wide awake. 
“ I have often seen you pass with your books under your 
arm. Where is your school? ” 

“It ’s Radcliffe.” 

“ Oh, how I envy you I ” and Miss Ambrose sighed. 
“When I was your age I would have given all — ” 

A twinge of pain prevented her finishing the sentence. 
Lois laid down the book, and, lifting the coverlid, moved 
the foot to an easier position. 

Again Miss Ambrose closed her eyes, and Lois, turning 
down the light, sat and watched her a little longer. It 
was now half-past seven and Lois felt faint. She had had 
nothing to eat since breakfast, except a light luncheon. 
Passing to the kitchen for the water for the compress, she 
had seen dishes piled on the table, and she judged that 
Miss Ambrose had had an early tea. Then Miss Ambrose 
opened her eyes. 

“ Perhaps you would like to study now ; the light will 
not disturb me.” 

“ Thank you, ” responded Lois. “ I really need all the 
time I can have. I have an examination in psychology 
to-morrow. ” 

“Then pray go on without considering me. It is a 
great relief to me to know that you are here. But I feel 
so drowsy that if I fall asleep I am sure that you will 

91 


excuse me. 


228 


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In a short time Miss Ambrose seemed to be really 
asleep, and Lois bent over her books with great zeal. 

The examination in psychology was one that would 
require a cool head. 

“Explain the utility of cerebral hemispheres.’- Lois 
turned from the test question to her note-book. She 
was able to answer it satisfactorily. “In the lectures 
mental life was several times described as a ‘ collection of 
interests. ’ Explain the phrase, and give the chief reasons 
for holding it to be a true description of at least a great 
part of mental life.” This, too, Lois found no difficulty 
in answering. But occasionally she came to a question 
that needed something more than either memory or her 
lecture notes. She exerted herself to the utmost. But 
alas ! the more she studied, the more she realized that she 
had the greatest need of her text-book, and this she had 
left at home. It was too large a book to carry hack and 
forward to Fay House, for she had felt that she would do 
best to spend the last hours in a careful study of its pages. 

It was nine o’clock when Lois made this discovery, and 
Miss Ambrose had not awaked. Lois blamed herself for 
not giving her college work first place in her mind when 
she made her offer to stay with Miss Ambrose. But Lois, 
in her way, was a philosopher, and since she could not 
have what she needed the most, she resolved to do the 
best possible with what she had. She devoted herself, 
therefore, to her note-book, and tested her knowledge of 
the subject with various specimen examination papers of 
past years. It was brain-consuming work, and Lois was 


i 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 229 

SO absorbed in it that she did not bear the maid when she 
opened the front door with her key. 

“ Sakes alive ! ’’ exclaimed the maid, amazed at this late 
hour to see a stranger seated at the centre table, while her 
mistress reclined on the lounge. Her loud tone woke 
Miss Ambrose, who at once began to explain the situation. 

“ 1 started upstairs, after going to the front door for my 
paper, and when 1 reached the top I remembered that I 
had left the door half open. Some way I slipped as I 
turned around, and fell the whole way. If it had n’t been 
for this young lady I might have been there yet with my 
foot twisted under me, ” and Miss Ambrose raised her hand 
to her eyes, greatly disturbed by the thought of what 
might have been. ‘‘She’s going to stay all night,” she 
added, after a moment’s pause. “See that the spare 
room ’s ready. ” 

“Yes ’m, but I wonder if the young lady mightn’t like 
something to eat before going to bed.” 

“ Bless me, ” said Miss Ambrose, almost attempting to 
rise from her couch. “I dare say the child hasn’t had 
any tea. I ’d had mine before she came, but I never 
thought to ask her.” 

“ I should think not, ” responded Lois, “ with your lame 
foot.” 

But pressed for an answer, she admitted that she had 
eaten little since breakfast, and when Dr. Brown returned 
at eleven, he found Lois at a side table with a cup of 
chocolate and a plate of bread and sliced cold beef before 
her. With his help Miss Ambrose was carried to her 


230 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


room upstairs, and he assured her that with patience and 
the care that Maggie would give her, he knew that she 
would soon be herself again. 

“How soon?” asked Miss Ambrose anxiously. 

“Well,” he replied cautiously, “it ’s a matter of weeks 
rather than months, but I can hardly undertake to say 
precisely how long it will take.” 

As Lois went to the room prepared for her the doctor 
gave her a word of commendation for her kindness to Miss 
Ambrose. “Your bandage had a professional touch,” he 
said. 

“Thank you,” she responded, “you know I wish to 
study medicine.” 

“So I ’ve heard,” replied Dr. Brown, who had a slight 
acquaintance with Lois’ family, “although you under- 
stand, I suppose, that it ’s a long and hard road, especially 
for a woman.” 

“ Oh, yes, ” she said, less cheerfully, perhaps, than her 
wont. Indeed, as she sat in Miss Ambrose’s quaintly 
furnished spare room, the professional course for which 
she hoped seemed farther away than ever. With one last 
glance at her notes before she went to bed, she heard the 
clock strike twelve before she fell asleep. In the morning 
she woke early, and was again at her work, with a sigh for 
the text-book which she could not see until she reached 
Fay House, where there was a copy in the library. It 
was hardly seven when Maggie knocked on the door, to 
say that breakfast would be ready at eight, and that Miss 
Ambrose would be glad to see her at any time. 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


231 


“You have been very kind indeed to stay with me, and 
you must promise to come to see me as soon as you can. 
I shall certainly be here for the next two or three weeks.’’ 
Miss Ambrose smiled faintly. 

“Yes, it ’s too bad.” The voice of Lois had the ring of 
true sympathy. “The next two or three weeks will be 
pretty busy for me, as all the mid-years come then, you 
know. But I shall drop in, in passing, for I shall be very 
anxious to see how you are getting along.” 

“ Thank you, it will please me so. There is so much 
that I wish to ask about the college. When I was young 
there were no colleges for girls, and my parents would not 
have let me go away from home. But I had a brother 
fitting for college, and by myself I studied just the same 
things that he did. How I envied him his chances ! Ah! 
he didn’t half appreciate them.” Then Miss Ambrose 
paused, as if weighed down by sad memories. “Well, 
afterwards my mother tried to get permission for me to 
study at Harvard, or even to have examinations on sub- 
jects that I had studied at home. But it was useless. 
Nothing could be done about it, although we had relatives 
in the Faculty and many influential friends.” 

“ Did they approve of your wishing to go ? ” 

“Well, not altogether. In fact, some of them thought 
me bold to talk about it. But — well, I ’m glad that the 
girls of this generation have the chance that I longed for. ” 
Later Lois learned from those who knew Miss Ambrose 
that she was really a very accomplished woman, and that 
she had studied many subjects under eminent professors. 


232 


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The brother, who had had the chance for which she had 
vainly longed, had not turned out well, and had had to 
leave college without his degree. Ill-health in later years 
had somewhat interfered with Miss Ambrose’s studying, 
and she had a wistful expression, such as one often notes 
on the faces of those who have missed their highest 
ambition. 

Lois, walking down to Fay House in the fresh morning 
air, thought of the contrariness of Fate. Here was Miss 
Ambrose, who so evidently might have afforded the lux- 
ury of a Harvard course, had this been a possibility in her 
youth, and here was she, Lois, longing for it, yet likely to 
be debarred from completing her work from the mere need 
of a little money. But brushing these thoughts aside, as 
unworthy a sensible girl, Lois returned to her psychology, 
and mentally worked out a problem or two before she 
reached Fay House. 


XXII 


ANNABEL AND CLARISSA 

The skating this winter of Julia’s Junior year was 
unusually good, and during late January and early Feb- 
ruary crowds went each afternoon to Fresh Pond. Julia 
Puth, Polly, and Clarissa were particularly zealous, and 
they were all fine skaters. Annabel excelled them all, 
and none were unwilling to admit her superiority. During 
her residence abroad she had spent a winter at Copenhagen, 
and she could accomplish all kinds of wonderful feats 
learned there in a most graceful way. 

“ If she were as genuine in other things as in this, we 
would n’t criticise her so, would we, Julia ? ” and Polly 
linked her arm in Julia’s for another turn round the pond. 

Annabel, indeed, distanced some of the Harvard youths 
who hung about her. It pleased her to show that she did 
not need their assistance. 

Skating was Annabel’s one outdoor accomplishment, for 
she was not generally fond of athletics. One afternoon a 
dozen or more Seniors were up at Fresh Pond. Clarissa 
skated almost as well as Annabel, but Polly and Julia 
were less expert, although they were both better skaters 
than Ruth. “Don’t go over by the ice-houses,” cried 
Polly, skimming past Julia and Clarissa. “ There ’s a thin 


234 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


place there and they are just going to rope it off. I was 
asked to warn everybody.’’ 

“ Oh, we know it is thin, thank you,” responded Julia. 

“ Yes,” added Polly, “ only a goose would skate over 
there ; any one can see it ’s thin, the ice is so dark. Only a 
goose would skate near it — or a person who was absorbed 
in showing off,” and she pointed toward the dangerous 
spot, which Annabel was approaching. 

“ Did n’t you warn her ? ” asked Clarissa, turning to 
Polly. “ You passed her on the way.” 

“ I ’m afraid I did n’t. I was thinking only of you.” 

“ Oh, Annabel knows so much, she would have known 
the ice was n’t thin, even if you had told her.” 

But even while they spoke, Clarissa had started off at 
full speed, and as the others turned to watch her they saw 
Annabel on the very edge of the dark ice. Polly knew 
that this was the dangerous place, and called out loudly to 
Julia to follow her. These things take almost as long in 
the telling as in the happening, and before Julia and Polly 
could reach the other two, Annabel had gone through the 
ice just as Clarissa had almost overtaken her. With- 
out a moment’s hesitation Clarissa threw herself into the 
chasm, and for a moment it looked as if she would only make 
a bad matter worse. But Clarissa knew that they were 
near the shore, and that with even a few strokes she could 
get herself into shallow water. She had thrown off her coat 
as she ran, and her arms were unencumbered. Moreover, 
she had felt justified in making the bold plunge, because she 
had seen several young men approaching from the crowd 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


235 


of skaters at the opposite end of the pond. Dragging 
Annabel somewhat roughly then, she struggled on toward 
the bank, and to her great joy she soon found her feet 
touching the bottom. Ready hands were stretched out to 
her from the shore, where already a crowd had assembled, 
and indeed two youths had plunged into the water to help 
her support Annabel. The latter was altogether overcome 
by the shock. Although she had not exactly fainted, she 
was so benumbed as to be helpless. But for Clarissa’s 
quick action she might have suffered much more. Hardly 
were they out of the water when a student returned with 
a sleigh, whose driver he had stopped in passing. The two 
drenched girls were bundled under the robes, and taken to 
a house not far away. Julia and Polly drove quickly down 
to Cambridge for fresh clothes, and before sunset Anna- 
bel and Clarissa were back in their own rooms. Annabel, 
however, really suffered from her mishap. She had struck 
her head on the ice in falling, and in consequence a slight 
fever set in which at first seemed rather serious. Her 
friends kept her room filled with flowers, and all her class- 
mates showed great sympathy when it was rumored that 
she might have to drop out of the class for the rest of the 
year. Clarissa had never fully realized Annabel’s unfriend- 
liness, and so when the latter sent for her she was only too 
glad to go to see her. She thought that Annabel’s thanks 
were warmer than they need have been, for Clarissa as- 
sured her that she had really been in little danger, and 
that even without her help, she would not have been long 
in the water. Annabel in her rule of invalid, reclining in 


236 


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an easy-chair, with her room filled with flowers, was indeed 
picturesque. 

“ Some day,” she said faintly, “ when I feel a little 
stronger I must have a long talk with you. I feel that I 
have done you an injustice.” 

“ Nonsense,” replied Clarissa, “ I am sure that you have 
not.” 

“Well,” sighed Annabel, “I will tell you sometime. 
It is hard now to explain.” 

“ Oh, I rather think that I can wait, if you can. You 
make me think of Pamela, whose conscience is always too 
active to be healthy,” rejoined Clarissa, with a smile. 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed Annabel dramatically, “ you will be- 
lieve me when I tell you all, but not now. Yet believe 
that I shall feel forever indebted to you.” 

“ Yes, yes,” responded Clarissa, “ if it makes you happier 
to put it that way. But really — ” Here they were inter- 
rupted by the arrival of other callers, and Clarissa soon 
took her departure. She had only a vague idea of Anna- 
befls meaning, although she thought that she undoubtedly 
had some reference to the publication of Professor Z’s 
lecture. 

She did not permit herself to dwell long on a subject 
that concerned herseK so entirely. Recitations were to 
begin again in a few days, and she was very anxious to 
have a meeting of the class called to consider the question of 
the Presidency of the Idler. It was the custom to appoint 
to this office the girl who had been Vice-President in the 
Junior year. It happened, however, that Regina Andrews, 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


237 


the girl now in office, had announced her intention of spend- 
ing the next year in Europe instead of in the regular work 
of the Senior year. Polly and Clarissa, therefore, had at 
once begun to work up a strong sentiment in favor of Lois. 

Lois, had she known of their well-meant efforts, would 
probably have stopped them by explaining that she herself 
had lost not merely the prospect of being a Senior, but even 
of finishing the work of her Junior year. 

She had agreed to take the position in the Village High 
School, twenty miles away, and she was to go there 
February 15th. Until the opening of the recitation period 
at the close of the mid-years, she intended to say nothing 
about her changed plans. 

Yet Clarissa and Polly could not help seeing that she 
took little interest when they told her of Regina Andrews’ 
resignation from the Vice-Presidency. 

“ We’re bound you shall have it, Lois. We think that 
you are the very best girl for the place.” 

“ There ’s Julia.” 

“Yes, we’d all like Julia, but she says that nothing 
would induce her to take it. She hates presiding, and she 
has made us promise not even to let her name come up. 
She is particularly anxious to have you,” and Polly’s tone 
would have been convincing to any one but a girl who 
had put a task upon herself in which class honors had no 
part. There had been times, of course, when popularity 
and the thought of being Idler President would have given 
her a great joy. But now — ah! in a day or two Polly 
and Clarissa would know just how matters stood. 


238 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


On Saturday Julia invited her to luncheon, and after- 
wards they were going to town to a concert. Ruth had 
gone home over Sunday, as had been her habit this year. 

“ I ’m perfectly delighted, Lois, that you are to be the 
next Idler President, for Polly says that there is n’t a 
shadow of a doubt. She has been so determined that the 
office should not go to Annabel that she has turned into a 
regular wire-puller. Even Annabel’s illness has made 
little difference to her, although I think that Clarissa has 
a more friendly feeling toward her.” 

“ There I ” exclaimed Lois, “ I must talk seriously with 
Polly and Clarissa. I have told them that I could not 
stand, but they won’t believe me.” 

“ But why, Lois, why should you not take the office if 
it comes to you ? You preside so well, and you are not 
timid, as I am, and — ” 

“Because, Julia” — Lois knew now that it was best to 
explain the whole matter — “ because I may not be here 
next year.” 

Then in as few words as possible, Lois told Julia that 
loss of money and other things made it expedient for her 
to take a year or more away from college. 

“ I cannot bear to be counted out of this class, but there 
is no help for it.” 

Julia very wisely did not attempt to dissuade Lois from 
her purpose of teaching, although already a little plan had 
begun to form in her mind. Yet she was sympathetic, 
and told Lois that it was simply impossible to think of the 
class as ready to graduate without her. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


239 


“ Why, we ’ll all have to stay out a year, just to keep 
up with you,” she said. 

But in her own room that evening, Julia pondered long 
over the perversity of Fate, that hampered girls like Jane 
and Pamela and Lois, who loved study for its own sake, 
while many others were able to glide through college with 
no thought of the great privileges that were open to them. 
“ The worst of it is, the girls whom one would like to help 
are always the proudest.” Then Julia put her mind on 
the subject, and decided that if she could help it Lois 
should not leave college. 

As Lois had finished her examinations in the first two 
weeks, she found time for more than one brief call on 
Miss Ambrose. It was so easy to drop in for a half-hour 
in passing, and the interest of the older woman in all her 
affairs was so genuine, that it was a delight to tell all that 
she could about college life. One day she stayed to 
luncheon, and enjoyed the service of quaint, old-fashioned 
china and silver, and she stole glances of admiration as 
she ate, at the massive mahogany sideboard and the 
spindle-legged serving table and the delicate steel en- 
gravings on the wall. Then in Miss Ambrose’s sitting- 
room she found so much to gratify her love of antiquities. 
There was the cabinet, for example, with its wedgewood 
vases, and the mosaics collected in Europe, and the little 
book-shelf with its tiny volumes of the Italian poets, 
bound in vellum, and the half-dozen miniatures on the 
mantle-piece of Miss Ambrose’s parents and other relatives, 
— all these and many other things claimed Lois’ attention, 


240 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


although most interesting of all was Miss Ambrose herself. 
A well-cultivated mind has always a strong charm for a 
thoughtful girl, and Miss Ambrose had certainly more 
culture than belongs to the average college graduate, man 
or woman. She had travelled and she had studied, yet 
she always seemed ready to hear Lois’ views on any subject 
of general interest. 

“ You look pale,” said Miss Ambrose abruptly on this 
particular day; “you look pale, and if you will pardon 
my saying it, a trifle worried. A young person should 
never show the touch of care.” 

“ Why, I ought not to look worried,” said Lois soberly. 
“I am sorry to appear so — so stupid.” 

“You could never appear stupid,” rejoined Miss Am- 
brose, “ but you are certainly paler. I hope that you are 
not working too hard.” 

“ Oh, no, work always agrees with me.” 

“Then something is troubling you,” persisted Miss 
Ambrose firmly. “ I fear that you were less successful 
than you would have been had you not taken care of me 
the night when I sprained my foot. I know that you 
were to have an examination the next day.” 

“ Oh, no,” and Lois smiled like her usual self. “ Oh, 
no, I came out better than I expected in that. I had 
an ‘A.’ ” 

“ Then I am really puzzled,” said Miss Ambrose, adding, 
with a slight touch of severity, “ I should think that you 
might trust me sufficiently to tell me what the trouble 
really is.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 241 

Now even a fortnight earlier, Lois would hardly have 
beheved any one who had told her that after a brief ac- 
quaintance she could have found it possible to open her 
heart to one whom she had known so short a time. Yet 
although she confided comparatively little, Miss Ambrose, 
reading between the lines, saw that the young girl was 
making a great sacrifice in stopping her course at this 
stage. “ Sacrifice ” is not perhaps exactly the right term, 
for on the part of Lois it was involuntary. Until she 
could earn money, it was not possible for her to continue 
her course. Yet when Lois had told Miss Ambrose all 
her reasons for leaving, the older woman merely expressed 
the conventional words of regret. Her eyes held rather 
more than their usual look of absent-mindedness. 

Great, therefore, was the surprise of Lois, on reaching 
home on that Saturday evening after she had been with 
Julia, to find a letter awaiting her from Miss Ambrose. 
From between the pages a thin blue slip fluttered to the 
floor. 

“ You must accept this,” wrote Miss Ambrose in her 
fine, pointed handwriting, “ as a very slight tribute of my 
indebtedness to you. I do not refer merely to the sacrifice 
you made in staying with me the evening when I was 
hurt; but you have done me a great favor in bringing 
me in touch with the woman’s college. You have given 
me an insight into the life of a college girl. I know that 
you will continue to keep me informed about it, and thus 
I shall enjoy through another a little of what I so longed 
for in my youth. From this time I intend to contribute 

16 


242 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


a certain amount toward the education of one or two 
students, and I am sure that you will oblige me by being 
the first to give me the privilege of doing something for 
the honor of good scholarship.” 

Picking up the blue slip, Lois saw that it was a check for 
one hundred and fifty dollars. The amount took her 
breath away. It meant not only the payment of her tui- 
tion for the next half-year, but it gave her a margin for 
other things, something even to save toward the expenses 
of the next year, for Lois was a good manager, and her 
pulses beat to fever heat as she thought of all that she 
could do with this money. 

She found that her parents made no objection to her 
keeping the check, and she had no hesitation in breaking 
her engagement with the Village School, as she knew that 
another approved candidate for the position had been 
sadly disappointed when it was given to her. 

Lois felt that she had done nothing to deserve this good 
fortune, and yet she was too sensible to decline what 
came in her way. She realized that her own greatest 
usefulness in the world would come from finishing her 
college course, and she lost no time in thanking Miss 
Ambrose, and in assuring her that she would do her 
best to deserve her confidence. Then Miss Ambrose 
smiled a contented smile. At last she had a direct 
interest in the woman’s college. 


XXIII 


CLOUDS CLEARED AWAY 

Julia was the first person outside her own family to 
whom Lois told her good fortune, and Julia, to tell the 
truth, was a trifle disappointed in hearing of it, for she 
had formed a little plan of her own, and if Miss Ambrose 
had not been ahead of her, she would have come forward 
to prevent Lois’ leaving. She told Clarissa, however, 
how near the class had come to losing Lois, and Clarissa, 
not vowed to secrecy, told others. The disclosure was 
entirely to the advantage of Lois, for all the class ex- 
pressed itself fully as to its great loss, if its most promis- 
ing student had had to leave for the mere lack of a little 
money. Clarissa and Polly artfully took advantage of this 
feeling, and talked about Lois’ accomplishments so per- 
sistently that even the least interested admitted that she 
was the very girl for the Idler Presidency. It was hard 
for Annabel to count herself altogether out of the running, 
but at last she submitted gracefully to what she could not 
help; and if she did not try to forward Clarissa’s cause, 
she certainly did nothing to hinder it. As she improved 
in health she did not open her heart to Clarissa, and she 
made no admission of knowing more than any one else 
about the publication of Professor Z’s notes. She was 


244 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


very friendly to the Kansas girl, and even invited her one 
afternoon as guest of honor to one of her famous little 
afternoon teas. Polly laughingly accused Clarissa of 
permitting herself to be bribed into friendliness. But 
Clarissa retorted that she had never felt unkindly toward 
Annabel, and that in time wrongs generally righted them- 
selves. It was probably through Annabel’s influence that 
Alma Stacey bent all her energies toward getting Clarissa 
on the basket ball team, and succeeded. 

As the spring passed on, many pleasant little social 
events brought the Juniors in closer contact with girls in 
the other classes. The students of highest rank had been 
elected into the various clubs, according to the studies in 
which they excelled. No one with less than two “ A’s,” or 
two “B’s ” with two additional courses could be admitted 
into these exclusive little organizations, and membership 
in the History or English or Philosophy Club, or indeed 
in any of several others, was accounted a great honor. 

Julia was in the History and Music Clubs, Polly was in 
the English Club, Lois was in half a dozen of them, and 
Clarissa, almost to her own surprise, was in the Philosophy 
Club, having made a great impression on her class- 
mates, as well as on her professors, by her very original 
method of interpreting various theories of philosophy. 
The J uniors were admitted in season to take part in the 
open meetings of these clubs, to which were invited the 
members of the corresponding clubs at Harvard, as well 
as the teachers in the department and individual guests 
of honor from outside. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


245 


The Juniors, however, felt closer in touch with the 
Seniors when they planned one or two special things in 
honor of the class so soon to go out. 

“ They treated us well when they were Sophomores, and 
we were nothing but Freshmen, so now we must do our 
best to make them feel that they really will be missed,” 
said Julia, as she and Polly and one or two others of the 
committee were planning what form the Senior party 
should take. 

“ Oh, there ’s no danger of their not thinking that they 
will be missed,” cried Polly. “Why, I believe that 
Elizabeth Darcy anticipates that the decline of Radcliffe 
will date from the day of her graduation. But we won’t 
let a little prejudice stand in the way of our giving them 
a good send-ofP.” 

This particular affair was called a music party, and a 
prize was offered by the Juniors to the Senior who should 
show herself most familiar with unclassical music. The 
prize was a pretty little old Dutch silver violin, and to the 
amusement of all it went to a girl who sang all the lyrics 
from all the operettas composed by Radcliffe girls during 
the past five years. She offered to play each operetta 
through from beginning to end, but the judges (which 
meant the whole Junior class) begged off and declared 
that she had sufficiently shown her ability, and had really 
earned the prize. So with much laughter the tiny violin 
on a crimson ribbon was slung around her neck. 

In return the Seniors gave the Juniors a party, request- 
ing in their invitations that each girl should bring a book 


246 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLrFFE 


for the little white bookcase in the Senior room. “As 
you will soon be Seniors yourselves,” the invitations had 
said, “these books will really be for your own use, and 
you have always been so unselfish that you would n’t have 
thought of doing this had we not reminded you.” 

The Senior rooms occupied the first floor of a pretty 
old-fashioned cottage on the Fay House grounds. With 
good rugs, well-chosen pictures, a piano, writing desk, 
lounge, and easy-chairs, they offered a pleasant retreat for 
the Senior who wished to escape the noise of the larger 
buildings. Once a week during the winter the Seniors 
were at home for an informal afternoon tea, and it was 
only on this set day that an undergraduate ventured within 
the precincts. The old-fashioned house had been bought 
by the Radcliffe Trustees in their efforts to acquire for a 
campus all the land in the immediate vicinity of Fay 
House, and the little house in the natural course of events 
would sometime be pulled down. But in the meantime 
it was a delightful place of retreat for the Seniors. To be 
sure, Elspeth Gray, who had been in New York during 
the spring recess, brought back glowing accounts of the 
Senior room at Yassar. 

“ These rooms look countrified compared with the Yassar 
room. Why, there, although they always have the same 
room, each Senior class refurnishes it. Even the wall 
hangings are changed. This year instead of paper they 
have put on a painted burlap, stencilled in gold, which 
cost nearly two hundred dollars; and the furniture and 
bronzes and oil paintings, although many of these things 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


247 


are simply lent by Seniors for the year, would make your 
eyes open, you simple-minded Radcliffeites.’^ 

“Plain living and high thinking is the rule at Cam- 
bridge,” responded Ruth, who happened to be one of the 
group to whom she spoke. “Come, Elspeth, don’t join 
the crowd that is sighing for a porter’s lodge, or a boy in 
buttons, or some similar luxury here at Radcliffe.” 

“Dear child,” and Elspeth drew herself to her full 
height, “I did not say, did I, that I preferred the ele- 
gance of Vassar and Bryn Mawr, but we haven’t even 
any palms, such as they have at Wellesley, or — ” 

“Well, we have historic associations. There’s the 
Washington Elm, almost under our eyes, and we ’re so 
nearly a part of Harvard that we can look back on a long 
and honorable past, even if we have less than twenty 
years of our own to count up.” 

The spring would have been altogether perfect for 
Julia but for her estrangement from Ruth. It was hard 
to approach Ruth on the subject, because there had been 
no open break between them, and because Ruth gave her 
no chance to seek or make an explanation. They still had 
their rooms together, but Ruth always studied by herself 
in her own room. Occasionally on Mondays Ruth ap- 
peared, but she was oftener absent when Julia was enter- 
taining those girls who dropped in. As Nora was only a 
Special, she was in Cambridge little except for recitations. 
Yet she had noticed the coolness between the two, who at 
Miss Crawdon’s school had been great friends. She could 
not help observing, too, that Ruth was never at Mrs. 


248 


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Barlow’s on Saturday and Sunday, when Julia and Brenda 
were so apt to have their friends about them. Ruth, to 
be sure, always pleaded that she must spend as much time 
as possible with her mother, who had been abroad in search 
of health during Ruth’s first two college years. She was 
still an invalid; and although Nora knew that Ruth natur- 
ally wished to be with her, this explanation did not wholly 
account for the coolness between Ruth and J ulia. 

From Julia she at last drew an account of the affair of 
the telegram, and the injury done to Polly. 

“It is n’t altogether what Ruth did, but it’s her indif- 
ference that has disturbed me so,” said Julia. 

“Perhaps she didn’t do it; perhaps there’s some ex- 
planation about the telegram. Really, Julia Bourne, I 
did not think that you could be so unreasonable. But 
I’m not altogether sorry,” she continued, smiling, “that 
you have shown yourself just a little less perfect than we 
thought you. I used to think you absolutely reasonable, 
but now — ” 

“Well, if you ever had so foolish an opinion of me, I ’m 
glad that something has happened to remove it.” 

“I must tell Brenda,” added Nora, as she bade Julia 
good-bye. “She ’ll be pleased to hear that I ’ve picked a 
flaw in her perfect cousin. Secretly, I believe that she 
thinks you almost too perfect. ” 

Not long after Nora had left her, the postman put into 
Julia’s hands an envelope, on which she recognized Ange- 
lina’s handwriting. Angelina had not been in Cambridge 
this winter. Indeed, the day after the operetta she had 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


249 


gone back to Shiloh, and in the autumn she had taken a 
place as mother’s helper in a household where there were 
several children. It was near enough to her own home 
to permit her to see her mother and the children twice a 
week, and Mrs. Rosa was now so much stronger and the 
young Rosas were so much older that they could manage 
very well without Angelina. It was better for Angelina 
to have the responsibility of a position where she could 
earn money. Already she had started a bank-book, and 
in every way she was much more contented than a year 
before. She was very fond of letter-writing, and her 
epistolary style was decidedly high-flown. 

“My dear Miss Julia,” the present letter began. “I 
have a confession to make, though I know that you will 
say that I am always sinning and repenting. But this 
was not exactly sin, only the kind of carelessness that you 
have often reproved me for. You see I saw Miss Ruth 
the other day, and I asked if that telegram did Miss Polly 
any harm, I mean her not getting it at once. You know 
I went home the next day and never heard about it. But 
I thought that next morning you didn’t look as happy 
as you ought to after an enthusiastic reception of your 
operetta (that was what the newspapers said), and so 
when I asked. Miss Ruth said that it made a great deal of 
trouble for her. I wonder how that was when the tele- 
gram was for Miss Polly? I suppose it was something 
about her father, for I heard he died. I know that I 
ought to have given it to her as soon as it came, for she 
was trying a song with you, and they sent it over from 


250 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


her boarding-house. But Percy Colton asked me to come 
down and pull some molasses candy in the kitchen, and I 
forgot all about it until after the performance. Then 
Miss Ruth, when I told her, said that she would give it 
to Miss Polly quick, so I don’t see why it made any 
trouble for her. I ’m very sorry, but that ’s the way 
things happen in this world — just exactly the way they 
oughtn’t to.” 

The letter gave more information about Angelina’s 
personal affairs, but only the above passage made any 
impression on .Julia. 

“Oh, Angelina! ” she sighed, “you always have had a 
fashion of making trouble, but luckily in this case, it ’s 
not too late to straighten things out.” 

To decide, with Julia, was to act. Overhead she could 
hear Ruth moving about in her room. Running up the 
stairs, two at a time, in a moment she was with her. 

“ Oh, Ruth, can you ever forgive me ? How mean you 
must have thought me! But really, I’ve suffered more 
than you; even if this letter hadn’t come, I should have 
told you so.” 

“ What letter ? ” asked Ruth, thoroughly bewildered. 

“ Oh, from Angelina ; it was she who kept the telegram. ” 

“Of course; I always knew it.” 

“But I didn’t know it. There, I won’t throw blame 
on any one else. It has all been my fault, and not 
Angelina’s.” 

“‘ All ’s well that ends well,’ ” said Ruth, pinning a 
crimson rosette at her belt. There was a slight stiffness 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


251 


in her manner, hut she looked at Julia with her old-time 
pleasant smile ; and as they clasped hands, the two girls 
knew that they were friends again. ^‘Naturally,’’ she 
added, “it was hard, Julia, to find you unjust — ” 

“ But if you had only said the least little word, I should 
have understood, Ruth, hut when you said nothing — ” 

“But how could I say anything? When you so evi- 
dently had your mind made up, what could I say?” 

“Ah, but I must tell Polly. Won’t you come with 
me, Ruth?” 

“Not this afternoon. I’m going to a ball game with 
Will; it’s only with Amherst to-day. But there’s a 
party of a dozen going, and not a chaperon.” 

“ Of course not. That ’s the one delightful thing about 
Cambridge ; we can go to ball games without any of the 
trammels of an ‘ artificial etiquette, ’ as Clarissa might 
say.” 

Then Ruth departed for the ball game, with Will 
holding her parasol, and Julia standing in the doorway, 
waving her a good-bye after a fashion that had not been 
possible during the past year. 

From Ruth, Julia went to Polly, and it was harder to 
bring up the subject of the telegram to her, for the very 
mention of it recalled so many sad memories. 

“ So, after all, Clarissa has been the most charitable of 
us all. Seems like we have all been carried away by sus- 
picion, while she has always been inclined to stand up for 
Ruth,” said the Southern girl. 

“Well, in other things besides murder trials, it isn't 


252 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


worth while to trust to circumstantial evidence. But I 
am the most to blame, for I ought to have known Ruth 
better than to suspect her of a meanness. I shall begin to 
wonder now if I have n’t been unfair to Annabel.” 

“I doubt it, for I happen to know that she borrowed 
Clarissa’s history note-book a few weeks before that article 
appeared,” rejoined Polly. 

“Well,” said Julia, “until I ’ve removed the beam from 
my own eye, I won’t search for the mote in Annabel’s.” 

“ Ah ! ” cried Polly penitently, “ as you put it, I believe 
that there is a beam in my eye also. But I shall lose no 
time in apologizing to Ruth. ” 

So Polly apologized, and spread the news abroad that 
she had been very unfair. Julia, too, was repentant, and 
that May and June of their Junior year was much 
brighter than the same months had been when they 
were Sophomores. Then when Lois was elected Idler 
President, Polly went about beaming. She declared that 
she had not lived in vain, and to celebrate the joyful 
event arranged a canoeing party at Riverside. There 
were twenty girls in the party, and Mrs. Colton and Pro- 
fessor and Mrs. Redburn went as protectors. They rowed 
and paddled, and listened to the band, and consumed un- 
limited quantities of ginger ale and sandwiches. They 
wound in and out on the curving river, and the lights of 
thousands of lanterns shone upon them from the river 
banks and the boat-houses, for it was a special night with 
the boat clubs. It was a delightful celebration and well 
planned, and although some of the girls were unduly 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


253 


daring and seemed to court collisions, when they were 
counted at the end of the trip they were found all to be 
there, to the great relief of the elders of the party. They 
had sung college songs until they were almost hoarse, but 
Clarissa had voice enough left to propose a vote of thanks 
to Polly, adding, “We have n’t a Float Day, nor a Lake 
Waban, but the Charles is free to all, and where is there 
a stream that is half as fascinating for canoeists ? ’’ And 
all the others answered, “Nowhere.” 

While it was yet uncertain whether or not Clarissa 
would go on the team, the Spring Meet came off in the 
Gymnasium, in which her name was down for several 
events. The Gymnasium was crowded with friends of the 
contestants and members of the R. A. A., and many were 
there as strong partisans of various girls who were to com- 
pete in the many different contests. In the horse vault 
and the saddle jump, some wonderful records were made. 
But for some reason the greatest interest centred in the 
running high jump, and Clarissa’s friends had prophesied 
that she was to make the record in this. She had a for- 
midable rival in Mary Francis, a Senior, and an especial 
friend of Elizabeth Darcy’s, who had held the record for 
two years. The two classes and their friends watched 
both girls with the closest attention. Polly and Julia 
were perfectly sure of Clarissa, and the latter fairly 
hugged her when with flushed cheeks and her dark hair 
lying in moist little ringlets on her forehead, she was 
declared the victor. Not only that, but with fifty-four 
inches she had made a record that was to put her and 


254 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


her class on a pinnacle. This, indeed, marked the be- 
ginning of great successes for that class, and brought 
out the fact that a genuine class feeling had been estab- 
lished. No one in the earlier years of the Annex or 
Radcliffe could have imagined that this feeling would 
become so strong. Each girl was beginning to be thought 
of, not as an individual, but as a member of the class, 
likely to reflect upon it scholastic or athletic glory. Clar- 
issa’s success at the meet made it seem all the more likely 
that she would be captain of the team. Even had there 
been a faction against her, it would have been difficult to 
keep her down. But there was no such faction, for the 
prejudice of the year before had almost completely died 
away. There was hardly a girl to take exception to the 
cheer when it rang out : 

“ Radcliffe, Rad cliff e, Radcliffe, 

Rah, rah, rah, 

Rah, rah, rah, 

Rah, rah, rah, 

Miss Herter and the team ! ” 


• — a cheer that contained a prophecy. 


XXIV 


SENIORS ALL 

How quickly that summer before their Senior year 
passed away ! Probably hardly a girl in the class failed to 
regret that they were travelling so quickly toward the end 
of their college course. During the summer a dozen or 
more had sent a vacation round-robin about from one to 
another. Clarissa had written a witty letter describing 
her experiences in drinking the waters at Manitou, whither 
her father had been sent in search of health. She also men- 
tioned incidentally that she was practising ball, “ for our 
team is to come out the very top of the heap, but don’t 
repeat my language,” she had concluded. Julia wrote of 
a very quiet summer at Rockley, as her aunt’s illness had 
prevented a proposed European trip. Lois had had three 
weeks in the White Mountains with Miss Ambrose, where 
Polly had joined her for a fortnight. Instead of tutoring, 
Pamela had felt warranted in giving her summer to re- 
search work, but she had done this without suffering in 
health, because she had found a delightful little village on 
the Maine coast where the board was almost nothing, and 
where she had just the inspiration she wanted in hearing 
the surf roll in upon the beach. Elspeth Gray wrote of 
an encounter that she had had with — well, it is not neces- 


256 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


sary to go into particulars — but with the graduate of a 
well-known college for women, who had pitied her very 
much because her lot had been cast at RadclifPe. “As if 
I hadn’t chosen this lot for myself with all the colleges of 
the country spread out before me. She said that we had 
no college spirit, and that we ought to see that there was 
a lack of dignity in accepting a degree that was only a 
kind of imitation of a Harvard degree. But it ’s useless to 
argue with such people, although I did make her admit 
that Harvard offered more to men than did any other 
college in the country, and she was amazed to learn that 
we had precisely the same courses of study, the same in- 
structors, and the same examinations as Harvard men 
have. Dear me! where have people been brought up to 
know so little ? ” Each girl whose name was appended to 
the round-robin, while expressing her anxiety to see her 
classmates again, added a note of sorrow that this for the 
majority would be the last year at Radcliffe. A few 
intended to return for higher degrees, but it was doubtful 
if all could carry out their plans. 

In the meantime they were getting all they could out of 
college life. Those girls who came from a distance were 
especially anxious to make up for lost time by going to 
lectures, concerts, or by visiting art galleries and historic 
towns, that they might feel that they had lost none of the 
special advantages that Cambridge and Boston offer the 
college student. Clarissa, who had done much sight- 
seeing in her Freshman year, now thought that her greatest 
need was for Sever Hall lectures, and she made up a little 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 257 

party consisting of Polly and two or three others of her 
classmates, who agreed to go with her two evenings a 
week. She enjoyed whatever lectures came on those 
evenings, for she said that three years at Radcliffe ought 
to have fitted her to understand anything. She continued 
to attend lectures even when her classmates, on one pre- 
text or another, had dropped off, for she was so fortu- 
nate as to run across a special student of good standing 
who had given up her position in a Western High School 
for the sake of a year’s study at Cambridge. A little later 
Pamela made one of the party, as it had been her habit 
the past two years to attend all the lectures or readings 
given by the Senior professor of Greek. While some 
Radcliffe Seniors were to be found at all of the Sever 
Hall lectures, Clarissa in this last year was really the 
most persistent, and she was the more persistent, perhaps, 
because some of her friends tried to dissuade her from 
burning the candle at both ends. They spoke in this way 
because Clarissa was steadily adding to her reputation as 
an athlete. She was now captain of the team — a position 
that many of the undergraduates regarded as more envi- 
able than that of President of the Idler. It was a great 
grief to Polly that she could not play basket ball, but 
when she presented herself for the necessary physical ex- 
amination, a slight weakness of the heart and lungs was 
discovered, in itself not serious, although sufficient to 
render her an unfit candidate. In consequence to assuage 
her disappointment she made herself an amateur coach and 
spent what time she could watching the practice games. 

17 


258 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Her observation was keen, and more than one suggestion 
of hers was put into practical effect. 

She was sure not only that the Senior team would van- 
quish all the others at Radcliffe, but that in its outside 
contests it would carry all before it. “Oh, if we could 
only have a chance against Bryn Mawr! she sighed. “ Of 
course that day is coming, but if it would only come in 
our day! Was there ever such a captain? ” she concluded, 
with an admiring glance at Clarissa. 

“Never, I am sure,” replied Pamela. “I love to look 
at her. She is the very picture of health. ” 

“There couldn’t be a better centre, not only because 
she ’s so tall, but because she has such judgment. How 
she managed it I don’t know, but she contrived to get 
Julia for one of her forwards and Ruth for the other. 
Neither intended to play this year. But there they are! 
They both have cool heads, and there ’s little danger of 
their losing their wits in an exciting match.” 

Pamela glanced for a moment toward Julia, who stood 
ready to make a goal, with the ball held lightly in her 
finger tips. Even while they were looking, with a little 
twist she threw it, and it fell into the basket. 

“ I count it one of my privileges in coming here, ” said 
Pamela in her prim little way, “to have known Julia 
Bourne. Whatever she does, she does so well, and she 
always has a thought for others. She is always so encour- 
aging.” Just at this moment Julia glanced toward her 
friends, and though she did not really bow to them, she 
smiled pleasantly. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


259 


“There’s one lesson we can learn from basket ball,” 
remarked Pamela. 

“Ah, Pamela,” and Polly laughed. “Sermons in 
stones, books in the running brooks are nothing to your 
lessons. But there, don’t blush at me, but tell me what 
you had in mind. ” 

“ Oh, I was only thinking that it ’s less what the indi- 
vidual player does than what the team does as a whole. 
A girl who thinks only of her own ability to make a 
wonderful throw may make a throw that will gain great 
applause, but she generally sends the ball into the hands 
of the enemy.” 

“Like Elizabeth Darcy last year. Did you see that 
match?” 

“No,” responded Pamela. 

“Well, she brought down the house with two or three 
brilliant throws, but she really did more to hurt her team 
than any one on the other side. If I had been Clarissa I 
should have been afraid to have Annabel on the team for 
the same reason. She thinks of herself first, and of the 
general good last.” 

“ Human nature according to Hobbes. ” 

“ Oh, my dear, I never think of ethics out of the class- 
room. There — there look ! ” and both girls turned to see 
a goal scored for Clarissa’s team — or rather for their own 
team, since Clarissa was the embodiment of the Senior 
athletic aspirations. 

The match with Wellesley was one of the things of 
which they were sure,^and it was likely to be exciting. 


260 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Brenda teased Julia when she heard of the coming contest 
by saying that she was bound to be on the side of Welles- 
ley this year, for Amy had just entered Wellesley, and 
Brenda was still very fond of her. Since their trip to- 
gether they had seen little of each other except in 
summer, for Amy had been very hard at work preparing 
for college, and society had absorbed Brenda the past two 
years. Amy had felt especially tender toward Brenda the 
past year or two, because the beginning of their acquaint- 
ance had seemed to mark the beginning of prosperity for 
Amy and her mother. The efforts of Mrs. Barlow and 
Mr. Elton had resulted in a fairly large sale of Mrs. Red- 
mond’s paintings. Indeed, her water-color sketches had 
become so much the fashion that her income now permitted 
her to live in Salem. Thus Amy for a year or two had 
been able to see much more than in former years of her 
schoolmates out of school, and some of her little sharp 
corners had been entirely rounded off. The death of 
Cousin Joan the past winter had made it possible for 
Amy to enter college without any worry as to ways and 
means; for although the money left by Cousin Joan from 
most points of view would have been considered very 
small indeed, it was enough to carry Amy comfortably 
through college. It was left to her for this purpose, “ in 
recognition,” as Cousin Joan wrote in a note that was 
found with the will, “ of her patience with a very trouble- 
some old woman.” Amy, wiping away a few tears, as 
she thought of the invalid whose life had been so narrow, 
protested that it was her mother and not she who should 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


261 


have the money as a reward for patience. But Mrs. 
Redmond reminded her daughter that the money was 
really a gift to her as well as to Amy, since she would 
now be saved a certain amount of financial care in planning 
Amy’s college career. Therefore, Amy at Wellesley, and 
Julia at Radcliffe, at odds only on the subject of some col- 
lege championship, exchanged visits and compared notes, 
and each ended invariably by thinking her own college the 
best. 

Brenda and Amy had been a little less intimate since 
those first Rockley days, and in the past year the former 
had been away in California ; at least, she had gone for a 
year’s absence in the March of Julia’s Junior year. She 
wrote to Amy as to Julia rapturous letters about the 
beauties of California, mingled with entertaining accounts 
of her sister Caroline’s children. Before Christmas Mr. 
and Mrs. Barlow started for California to visit their daugh- 
ter and bring Brenda home. Nora went with them, by 
special invitation, as an attack of measles in the early 
autumn had prevented her resuming her special work at 
Radcliffe, and her eyes needed the rest. 

In the absence of her relatives, therefore, Julia was 
naturally thrown more in the society of her Radcliffe 
friends than had been the case in other years. Edith was 
spending the year abroad, and the little group of Miss 
Crawdon’s girls was widely scattered. Julia spent Christ- 
mas with Ruth in Roxbury, where Pamela, Clarissa, and 
Polly were also invited ; for Ruth, although she had not 
entirely changed in her general opinion of Pamela and 


262 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Clarissa, had still changed somewhat in her feeling toward 
them. She had learned to see the good points of the 
candid Western girl and of the timid Vermonter. 

In justice to Ruth, it should be said that her change of 
view was not entirely due to the fact that the class, as a 
whole, had now a much greater appreciation of these two 
than in their first college years. She had seen her own 
mistake in attaching too much importance to Annabel's 
judgments. This, combined with her own slight prejudice 
against girls a little unlike those to whom she was accus- 
tomed, had made the trouble. Ruth, too, had suffered so 
much from Julia’s coldness after the affair of the telegram 
that this misunderstanding had made her more charitable 
toward others. Though no explanation had yet been given 
of the origin of the newspaper article, she no longer believed 
Clarissa responsible for it. Ruth was not a snob, and the 
fact that Clarissa was now the popular captain of the 
basket ball team had had little to do in influencing her. 
Neither was she the more anxious to be considered Pa- 
mela’s friend because the latter was now the observed of 
all observers from having won the great prize open both to 
Harvard and Radcliffe students for a thesis on a classical 
subject by an honor student. The prize was newly estab- 
lished, and besides the honor it conferred, the money value 
was greater than that of any other prize offered. Pamela’s 
prospects had greatly brightened. Her scholarship for the 
year had covered her tuition, and she had done some 
tutoring. But the two hundred and fifty dollars which 
the prize would give her would free her from all worry 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 263 

until she could establish herself as a teacher. Very thank- 
ful was she that she had taken the summer for the special 
study and research needed for the thesis. The honor that 
she had won through the prize made a great impression on 
her relatives in Vermont, and her aunt wrote her a cordial 
letter, suggesting that after all they might let bygones be 
bygones, and adding that they would be very glad to have 
a visit from her as soon as her “ school ’’ was over. Pa- 
mela accepted the invitation, for she longed for a sight of 
her old home. But she wrote that it must be July before 
she could leave Cambridge. She had promised to stay 
with Miss Batson until after the Fourth of July. 

Of all the Seniors in cap and gown Lois was perhaps the 
happiest, for it was the first year of her college course in 
which she was comparatively free from care. She was 
freer than ever before to enjoy the lighter side of college 
life. Whether presiding at a business meeting or receiv- 
ing at a reception, Lois was greatly admired as President 
of the Idler. In fact, she filled the place so well that 
many wondered that she had not been thought of a year or 
two earlier. Polly, hearing these comments, was greatly 
amused by them, and inwardly commended herself for 
having brought it about that a girl who had never been 
called popular should in her last year of college be near 
the pinnacle of popularity. Nothing succeeds like suc- 
cess, and although Lois in office was just as independent 
as Lois out of office had been, yet she now was more at 
liberty to mingle with her classmates. The charm of her 
manner was realized, therefore, by many, whereas before 


264 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


it had been felt only by the few with whom she came in 
immediate contact. 

Polly’s literary talent which had shown itself in a rather 
frivolous form in the operetta had so developed that her 
professors had encouraged her to undertake more serious 
work. One or two of her poems had appeared in “ The 
Radcliffe Magazine,” and had been highly praised. But 
this commendation did not mean half as much to her as 
the fact that the “ Advocate ” had taken one of her short 
stories. After it was accepted, some time passed before it 
was published, and at first Polly thought that she would 
let no one hear of her good fortune until it was actually 
in print. 

But at last she had to tell Clarissa, and then Clarissa 
begged permission to tell Julia, and in a short time all of 
Polly’s friends knew it. “Yet, honestly,” said Clarissa, 
“ I don’t see why you are so set up about a little thing 
like that. It isn’t a bit better to have a story in the 
‘ Advocate ’ than in — ” 

“I’d rather have it there,” said Polly, “than in the 
‘ Atlantic Monthly,’ or in any other of the large maga- 
zines.” 

“Why, Polly Porson!” 

“Well, you may see that I am right, because one can 
have a thing in the ‘Advocate ’ only during a very limited 
time, while she has all her life to get into the others.” 

“Yes, and sometimes it takes a person all her life to 
get in.” 

“ Then it ’s well to make sure of the thing near at hand, 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


265 


like the ‘ Advocate, was Polly’s response. And link- 
ing her arm in Clarissa’s, she walked off with her friend. 

“Clarissa,” she said, as they withdrew out of hearing of 
the girls with whom they had been sitting, “have you 
ever found out about that newspaper article, that one 
about Professor Z’s notes?” 

“No, not exactly,” responded Clarissa. “Why do you 
ask?” 

“ Because I have always had a suspicion, and I should 
like to verify it, or have it all settled before we leave 
college.” 

“But why should you care? It’s all a thing of the 
past, and it does not trouble me at all now.” 

“ I dare say not, but it ’s a thing I ’ ve set myself to find 
out, and, in fact, I almost think that I know who it was.” 

“ My dear Polly, please do not concern yourself about it 
on my account. I really do not care.” 

“ But I care, Clarissa. So far as the class is concerned 
the thing has come out all right. You ’ve done so much 
for the team that any feeling they might have had would 
be wiped away. But — ” and here Polly looked rather 
inquiringly at Clarissa — “you won’t be offended if I say 
that there are still some professors and one or two others 
in authority who have a prejudice who think that you did 
this, — even Professor Z himself, — and that is why I want 
to clear the thing up. I must tell you who I think it was, 
Clarissa. I firmly believe that it was Annabel.” 

Still Clarissa was silent. 

Polly looked at her suspiciously. “Upon my word, T 


266 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


believe that you know who it was. Why won’t you 
tell?” 

Clarissa laughed one of her deep, hearty laughs. “ You 
really are the most inquisitive little person. Surely I have 
a right to some secrets.” 

“ Then you admit that you know?” 

“I have my own suspicions.” 

“Then it was Annabel. You won’t say that it was 
she, because she is indebted to you. You have a kind 
of a manly sense of honor. I don't know what else to 
call it.” 

“ Well, then, since you are so persistent, and since you 
might make trouble for Annabel, as well as for me, by 
telling others of your suspicions — ” 

“Then it was Annabel! ” 

“Not exactly, my dear. Do you remember that re- 
hearsal performance of the Idler when Annabel sang so 
long before the curtain went up?” 

“Oh, yes, ages ago, when we were Sophomores.” 

“ Yes, well probably you remember the flowers that fell 
with an awful thud on the stage.” 

“I was not there myself, but I heard about them.” 

“ Of course you know that they were thrown by Loring 
Bradshaw who attended the play dressed as a girl ? ” 

“Yes, I have heard it.” 

“Well, the affair made much trouble for him. He was 
a Senior, and this was the last of several escapades that 
brought him into disfavor with the college authorities. 
He was suspended, lost his degree, and although he came 


BRENDANS COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 267 

back and took it the next year, he has felt rather bitter 
toward me ever since.” 

“Toward you! I did not know he was a friend of 
yours ! ” 

“Neither a friend nor an enemy. But it is true that he 
became my enemy because he heard that I had spread the 
report of his masquerade.” 

“ It was not you at all, Clarissa ; it was I who first told 
who he was. I remember that distinctly.” 

“Yes, but it was I who had the most to say about that 
Mr. Radcliffe affair of Somers Brown. Annabel always 
believed that I had something to do with that practical 
joke. She still believes, doubtless, that it was purposely 
played on her. Naturally, she feels annoyed. But I fear 
that her suspicions have carried her too far. However 
that may be, I know that my note-book was in her posses- 
sion not so very long after this, and then — ” 

“ And then followed that newspaper article I And you 
believe that she had nothing to do with publishing it?” 

“I believe that she had less than you think.” 

“Then you are more charitable than I could be.” 

Beyond this Clarissa would say no more on the subject. 


XXV 


A STEANGE MEETING 

One afternoon soon after the mid-years, Julia was at work 
in the stack of Gore Hall, the Harvard Library. For the 
past two years she had been delving deep into American 
History, and in a certain research course she felt more 
interest than in almost any other of her studies. She 
hoped before graduating to have accumulated notes enough 
for the basis of a monograph. Several such monographs 
had been published, under the auspices of Radcliffe, on 
other subjects besides history, and they had been praised 
for their originality. Julia’s chosen subject dealt with the 
early histor}^ of the country, and at present she was study- 
ing the formation of the government. A special card gave 
her access to the great collection of books in the Harvard 
Library stack. Her professor suggested the books to be 
considered each week, and she submitted her notes to him 
and reported what she had read. 

On this particular day, surrounded by the many volumes 
of “Eaton’s Debates,” she was absorbed in tracing some 
difficult point. The long windows of the wing where she 
sat let in so much light that she did not realize that it was 
growing late. Accordingly as she pushed her way through 
the doors into the Main Library she was surprised to find it 




BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


2G0 


deserted of students and attendants. The silence and 
gloom were disturbing. There was no doubt but that she 
was locked in alone in the great building. What the pos- 
sibilities were for her getting out before morning she did 
not know. The accessible windows were all too high from 
the ground to permit her to jump out, even if she had any 
way of opening them. Figures were passing through the 
Yard, but she disliked to make a disturbance by knocking on 
the glass. If some student should come to her rescue, he 
might thoughtlessly mention her plight, and then what joy 
for the “ Lampoon ” and the daily paper, and any other 
publication that enjoyed a chance to laugh at Radcliffe 
girls! Julia stood there, looking from the window rather 
disconsolately. She did not doubt but that before night 
should set in a watchman or a janitor or some one else 
would appear on the scene to free her. 

But a few hours in the building would be very tiresome, 
especially as she had no light, and therefore could not pass 
the time reading. An hour, perhaps, went by, and still 
Julia saw no way of getting out of the building. She 
wondered what Ruth would think when she failed to ap- 
pear for dinner. She moved restlessly around the delivery 
room, staying as long as possible near the windows. She 
hoped that some woman might pass this corner of the Yard, 
who would pay attention to her, if she tapped on the win- 
dow. But aU who approached passed so far from the 
Library building that she saw little chance of carrying out 
her plan. Had she been there hours or weeks ? The un- 
emotional Julia was actually shedding a tear or two, 


270 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEFE 


though she felt ashamed of herself for her weakness. How 
it would have amused Polly to see her usually calm friend 
as disturbed as any one else would have been by her mis- 
adventure. After another period of hopeless standing by 
the window, Julia’s heart gave a sudden bound. A 
strangely familiar figure was coming near. But no ! It 
could not be ! Yet it was strange that any one else should 
walk with that long, quick step, with head bent after a 
fashion that she had not seen in any one for three years. 

This person, to be sure, wore a soft hat, and he looked a 
little heavier than Philip, but no one else could walk in 
that way, and Philip had always been devoted to those 
short sack coats. Yet Philip was two thousand miles 
away, and Julia began to think that her little period of 
imprisonment was wearing on her brain. How she ven- 
tured to do it she often wondered afterwards. But jump- 
ing up on the window sill she unfastened the window, and 
then jumping down she managed to lift it an inch or two. 
The slight noise attracted the attention of the young man 
she had observed, who was now standing directly beneath 
the window. 

“ Locked in ! ” she called to him. “ Could you find some 
one to let me out ? ” 

“ Why, yes,” he replied, “ at least I ’ll try ; but could n’t 
you — ” here he seemed to measure the distance with his 
eye — “ but could n’t you jump out ? ” 

The sound of the stranger’s voice reassured J ulia ; he 
was certainly Philip, but he had not recognized her. He 
probably thought her one of the Library assistants. But 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


271 


although the distance was not too great for safety it seemed 
to Julia unwise to jump. She did not like the idea of at- 
tracting attention ; there were likely to be passers-by at any 
minute. 

“ Come,” said the young man, “ this would really be the 
best way. One foot on my shoulder, I’ll give you the 
word when no one is passing, and you must be quick, too.” 

Had Julia not known the identity of her rescuer she 
probably would not have accepted his offer. But the 
prospect of noting his amazement was too good to refuse. 

“ You ’ll do it? ” he asked a little impatiently. 

“ Yes.” 

She said no more, for she was not yet ready to have him 
recognize her. Besides, in the dim light she might have 
made a mistake. Watching his chance until there was 
absolutely no one in sight of the building, the young man 
at last gave the word. 

Julia’s gymnasium practice was of great service to her 
now. Opening the window wider, she sat for a minute on 
the sill. Then as she put her foot on Philip’s shoulder, by 
an adroit movement she maintained her balance while he 
knelt low enough to permit her to jump to the ground. 

In a second she was on her feet, and no one but Philip 
had perceived her strange exit from the building. 

Her hat had fallen off, receiving the full force of the jar 
of reaching the ground; and Philip, turning to speak to 
her, was amazed to find that it was Julia whom he had 
assisted. He gave ready answers to her questions, won- 
dering that she did not know of his intended return. 


272 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“I have n’t heard from Edith lately,” said Julia, “and 
we have all been so busy with the mid-years that we might 
have failed to hear an even greater piece of news than your 
coming, although this really is very important,” she has- 
tened to add, lest Philip should think her altogether un- 
gracious. “ It ’s nearly three years since you went away,” 
she continued after a moment’s silence. 

“ Is it? But tell me, Julia, how did you manage to shut 
yourself up in the Library ? Is it the fashion for Radcliffe 
girls to do that kind of thing now ? In my day you used 
to be more conventional. But we must huriy to a car, you 
are hungry.” 

“ Oh, indeed I am not,” returned Julia. “ Please let us 
walk — that is, if you have time. They must have finished 
dinner at Mrs. Colton’s half an hour ago, and I ’d so much 
rather know what you have been doing these three years. I 
have only heard general rumors from Edith and the others.” 

So Philip, nothing loath, gave her a glowing account of 
life on the ranch, of the various people he had met and 
the things he had learned. “ It was harder sometimes than 
studying,” he said, “ the life out there. But it did me 
good, and now I ’m going to work in a different way. I Ve 
promised my father to work for my degree. What a fool 
I was to cut those examinations ! I ’ll have a good half- 
year’s work to make them up. But I may have time for a 
little law, too ; I ’ve promised my father to try for the bar. 
Even if I do not practise, it will be a good foundation for 
business. The old gentleman rather wants me to look 
after things and relieve him.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


273 


Mr. Blair had never been considered an overworked man, 
and Julia smiled at the thought of Philip’s relieving him. 
But Philip to-day was evidently very different from the 
Philip of three years before. He no longer spoke in a 
drawl and the note of personal vanity was lacking. When 
they reached Mrs. Colton’s, Philip went indoors with Julia, 
and Ruth was louder than Julia had been in her expressions 
of surprise at his return to Cambridge. He told the story 
of the rescue in a fashion that was amusing, if embarrass- 
ing to Julia. Looking at him as he sat by the droplight 
in Mrs. Colton’s library, she could see that he had grown 
stouter and browner, and that no one could now accuse him 
of looking too effeminate. 

Ruth and Mrs. Colton congratulated Julia on getting 
safely out of the building. 

“ Of course it was n’t as bad as if you had been in the 
Agassiz or Peabody Museums, with stuffed animals and 
bottled fishes or old Indian relics to keep you company.” 

“Yes, I’m thankful enough,” responded Julia; “also 
that I was rescued without being arrested as an escaped 
burglar.” 

“ That reminds me,” said Philip, starting up, “ that I 
must return and see that that window is fastened. I must 
hunt up a janitor or something of the kind.” 

So almost before they realized it, Philip went off, promis- 
ing to call on them soon. 

Then Ruth and Mrs. Colton insisted on Julia’s having 
the dinner that they had saved for her ; and Julia, thinking 
over the happenings of the past two hours, realized that 

18 


274 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Philip had neither referred to that last Class Day intei'vie w, 
nor had he thanked her for her advice nor apologized for 
his long silence, and yet she was sure that she and Philip 
were better friends than they had ever been before. 

“ Julia,” said Ruth the next morning, as the two sat in 
the conversation room, preparing and looking over some of 
the notes of their Shakespeare lesson. “Julia, I do not 
wonder that Philip and his friends used to laugh at us 
just a little when we were PVeshmen, if we were at all like 
those two meandering through the hall.” 

“ But, my dear, we never walked with our arms about 
each other’s waists, nor scampered through the halls, 
nor — 

“Nor wore pigtails,” continued Ruth, gazing again at 
the Freshmen. “ One of those girls, by the way, Minnie 
Crosfut, has been confiding some of her woes and sorrows 
to me. She thinks that the upper class girls are not suffi- 
ciently devoted to prayers. She thinks that attendance 
should be compulsory, and that it is n’t fair for Freshmen 
.to have more obligations than Seniors.” 

“ What an idea ! Freshmen are no more obliged to go 
than Seniors. We all know that at ten minutes of nine 
every morning there will be prayers in the Auditorium, and 
as ministers of three different denominations officiate in 
turn, most girls can suit their special theological tastes, but 
no one has to go. There are apt to be more Freshmen 
there, but I ’m afraid that the whole thing turns largely on 
the question of convenience. Girls who have a nine o’clock 
recitation are apt to come down here early enough for 








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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 275 

prayers. Freshmen from a distance have usually promised 
their families before leaving home.” 

“ And Pamela? ” 

“ Oh, Pamela comes because she is a minister’s daughter, 
and because her conscience is always active. But most of 
us, I am sure, attend prayers two or three times a week. 
Tell your Freshman that she should be more observing. 
And now, to work ; I am half sorry that we took this Shake- 
speare course.” 

“Julia! You to express such a sentiment! I am 
astonished. Why, it seems to me the finest course we have 
had this year ; at least it has meant more to me. Every 
word now in every play that I read seems to have such 
depth. I am always looking for the hidden sense. Yet I 
do wish that sometimes the meaning were a little plainer. 
What do you make of this, ‘ Oh, such a deed as from the 
body of contraction plucks the very soul ’ ? What is 
contraction ? ” 

“ Why, he gave us the note, ‘ Power of making a con- 
tract.’ ” 

“Yes, I should have written it on the margin, but my 
book is so covered with notes that sometimes I trust to 
memory. I am anxious to finish this this morning, so as to 
be free to enjoy the party this evening, for this afternoon 
I am obliged to go to town.” 

“ Oh, yes, the party, the Sophomores’ farewell to us. I 
wonder what they have planned ? I hear that it is to be 
something very original. There ’s Polly with her camera * 
perhaps she knows.” 


276 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


But Polly, although she had more than a mere idea of 
what the Sophomore party would be, declared she was 
pledged to secrecy, and she invited Julia and Ruth to go 
upstairs with her while she took a picture of the “ Fair 
Harvard ” room. 

This was a recitation room on the second floor, and 
Polly had been waiting a time when it should have no 
classes, and when the light should be favorable for a photo- 
graph. She meant to have a photograph of every nook 
and comer of the old building for the album that she was 
making. The “Fair Harvard” room deserved its name, 
for the author of the famous college song had married a 
member of the Fay family, and in a room of the old house 
he had written the well-known stanzas. His portrait and 
an autograph of the poem, now hanging between the win- 
dows, gave the room more interest than belonged to any 
other in the whole building. 

“You will give me a print?” begged Ruth when she 
had finished. 

“ No, indeed, not one.” 

“ Why, Polly Porson, are you growing mean ? ” 

“No, generous ! ” 

“ It does n’t look like it. I have been expecting a whole 
set of your photographs. Why do you refuse ? ” 

“Come downstairs and I ’ll show you.” 

Julia and Ruth followed Polly to the bulletin board in 
the anteroom, whereon were displayed the cards of girls 
who were ready to do various things by which they could 
earn a little money. There was a notice from one girl that 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


277 


she was prepared to paint the Radcliffe seal in water colors, 
and from another that she would execute the Harvard or 
the Radcliffe seals in burnt wood. Other girls advertised 
that they were anxious to do mending or typewriting. 
One girl offered to frame photographs in passe-partout, and 
others to make hand-painted picture frames. 

“ There ! ” cried Polly, pointing to an excellent photo- 
graph of the Fay House library, with a card stating that 
complete sets of Radcliffe views could be obtained from 
the girl who had made this print. 

“ If I should give my photographs away, I should be 
taking money out of her pocket. You and Julia and almost 
every girl in the class can easily afford to buy Madge 
Burlap’s photographs, and I happen to know that she 
needs the money. She ’s one of the girls of whom the 
college is bound to be proud. Since she ’s willing to earn, 
she must be encouraged in her efforts. That ’s why you 
can’t have my photographs — for love or money.” 

“ I accept your apology, Polly, and now good-bye until 
this evening.” Seizing Julia by the arm, Ruth hurried 
her off to the Shakespeare class. 

When evening came, the Seniors were welcomed by the 
Sophomores at the house of one of their members, whose 
house in Cambridge was large and attractive. Across one 
side of the long drawing-room was a table covered with a 
crimson cloth. When the Sophomores and their guests 
had all assembled, a double quartette from the former 
class sang an amusing song of greeting, and then at a 
given signal the cloth was lifted, and one by one the 


278 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Seniors were invited to come forward and gaze upon the 
photographs that had been hidden under the cloth. Each 
Senior had a book given her in which to record her guess 
as to the identity of the girls whose photographs were here 
displayed. 

“ They ’re .all Seniors,” said Madge Burlap, “ although 
you might n’t think it. Seniors at the age of ten or under ; 
and if you don’t recognize yourselves at that age, why we 
shall think that you are less clever than you profess to be.” 

The Sophomores had been at work all winter, collecting 
the pictures that they now displayed. They had tried to 
get them, so far as they could, from friends of the Senior 
rather than from the girl herself, as they wished the class 
as a whole to be surprised by the collection. Besides 
photographs, there were a few miniatures and daguerreo- 
types, while of Pamela and one or two other girls there 
were only tintypes to show. 

“You are not asked,” said the President of the class, 
“ to say whether the homeliest child has grown into the 
prettiest Senior, or the reverse; we shall give the prize 
for plain, unvarnished guesses.” 

When the books were all in, it was found that Pamela 
had come the nearest to guessing the whole number, 
although even she had made two mistakes. The prize was 
an order on the class photographer for a dozen photo- 
graphs, and everything considered, perhaps no one could 
have appreciated this more than the Vermont girl. 

As the spring wore on, the entertainments offered the 
Seniors came, as Polly said, “fast and furious.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


279 


Grateful though the class was for all the attentions 
lavished on them, they enjoyed these various parties 
much less than the entertainments given them in their 
Freshman year. Then four years of college life lay 
before them. Now it was nearly all behind ; and though 
they appreciated the dignity of being Seniors, wearing the 
cap and gown, still not a few of them would have given 
much to be at the beginning rather than at the end. 

Polly was one exception to this sentimentality, which 
toward the spring recess seemed to take possession of her 
class. 

“Four years more of examinations, a whole year of 
English A, a year of daily themes, unexpected hour 
examinations in History I, at least two years of superior 
smiles from girls who know more than we do, — no, thank 
you I I am very glad to let the dead past bury its dead. 
But if any of you really long for four years more, I should 
advise you to return for a season of post-graduate work. 
Any one who distinguishes herself sufficiently may be the 
sword to open the Harvard oyster from which to extract 
the Ph.D.” 

“ Yes, if we could be Freshmen with Seniors’ experience 
life would indeed be ideal, although as it is, it is real and 
terribly earnest, and I wonder that we can take time even 
in the recess for Julia’s house party.” 


XXVI 


THE HOUSE PARTY 

When Mrs. Barlow offered Julia the house at Rockley 
for a party during the Easter recess, the offer was promptly 
accepted. “ I have ordered the house put in readiness for 
our return,” wrote Mrs. Barlow from California, “although 
we shall not reach Boston until the first of May. I am 
sure that you must have worked very hard this winter, 
and that the breath of sea air will be just what you need 
before hot weather sets in. There is room for a dozen 
girls, and everything will be arranged for your comfort. 
You must not hesitate to ask for whatever you wish.” 

In making the list of the girls to be invited, Julia and 
Ruth were long in consultation. Clarissa and Pamela, 
Lois and Polly, were certainties, and there were three or 
four others about whom there was no doubt. 

“There’s Annabel, too,” said Julia. “We must ask 
her.” 

Ruth looked closely at her friend. “ But do you care 
to have her? Are you not asking her chiefly on my 
account?” 

“I thought you might like her, even though you and 
she are less intimate than you once were. But she is 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


281 


Class President, and she is much more genuine than she 
was a year or two ago/’ 

“She tries to seem more genuine,” responded Ruth. 
“But Annabel can never be absolutely sincere. We must 
take her as we find her.” 

“Oh, we all understand her now,” replied Julia, “and 
as she certainly is entertaining, it seems to me worth while 
to invite her.” 

-Annabel, therefore, was one of the group that sat on 
the broad piazzas at Rockley or wandered on the beach in 
the warm April sun. Although it was vacation, each girl 
had set herself some task to be done before returning to 
college. Therefore, for three hours in the morning all 
were allowed to bury themselves in their books. Dante, 
Schiller, Greek and Latin Classics, Von Holst, Fichte, 
Herbert Spencer, John Stuart Mill, Seignobos, and other 
awe-inspiring books were strewn over the library table, 
although any girl who touched her books except in the 
mornings was at once forcibly reprimanded by her class- 
mates. An exception was made in the case of Polly and 
Clarissa, who both were studying practical Astronomy. 
So ardent were they in their search for variable stars that 
the other girls decided that it would be cruelty to force 
them to give up the opportunities afforded by Rockley. 
Therefore they spent nearly every evening on a little bal- 
cony, muffled in shawls. The wide, unbroken stretch of 
sky gave them the best of views, and, armed with opera- 
glasses, they carried on their search with great persever- 
ance. Clarissa, indeed, announced that she had found 


282 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


almost enough material for a thesis, and that star-gazing 
could be a very profitable performance, “ when carried on 
by a prudent person like myself, ” she added sotto voce. 

For exercise, wheeling was the favorite diversion of the 
twelve, and some to whom this part of the country was 
new were enthusiastic over the pilgrimages to Salem, 
Marblehead, and other historic places. At Salem, where 
Amy also was spending her vacation, they had a glimpse 
of Mrs. Redmond and her studio. Polly, who had money 
for whatever she wished, bought a pretty little water- 
color sketch of the beach at Rockley, and Annabel talked 
about having her miniature done. Fritz Tomkins, Amy’s 
great friend, came down to call while the Seniors were 
there. He expressed himself as perfectly delighted to 
meet a group of Radcliffe girls, explaining that although 
he had been a whole year at Harvard, they were the first 
students from the woman’s college whom he had met. 

“You ought to have called on Ruth and me,” said 
Julia, with a mischievous attempt at patronizing Fritz, 
“ and we would have introduced you to some one of your 
own age. We know several girls in the Freshman class.” 

“Thanks,” said Fritz, “but you know that at Harvard 
we hardly realize that there is such an institution as Rad- 
clifPe. It makes so little — ” 

“Yes, it makes very little disturbance in Cambridge, 
and we would hardly realize the existence of Harvard had 
we not the advantage of knowing its Faculty pretty well,” 
retorted Ruth. 

“I understand that you could hardly get pn without 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


283 


them,” and thus the good-natured bantering between the 
two went on for some time longer, and in the end it was 
hard to tell with whom the advantage lay. 

One evening at Rockley Julia announced that she had 
arranged for a “confession conference.” She would give 
no satisfaction as to her meaning until the whole dozen 
had assembled in the library before the open fire. 

Then, producing a red -bound book, she declared that its 
pages were blank, except that one page in every five had 
in turn the names of each of the girls present. 

“I am going,” she said, “to ask each girl to tell me 
what Radcliffe has meant to her, and then I am going to 
beg her to tell what her real ambition was in coming to 
college, or better, what she intends to be when she leaves. 
Let us take an hour to collect our thoughts and write; 
then another hour to read and discuss what has been 
written. Later, with your permission, these confessions 
will be handed to the Confession Recorder (and she laid 
her hand on Polly’s shoulder) to be copied into this book. 
I wish that the whole class would do something of the 
same kind. But at the end of ten years, how interesting 
it will be to see how near we twelve have come to our 
ideals.” 

“ Or how far we have fallen below them, ” murmured a 
voice that sounded like that of Annabel. 

Thus, with pencils and writing pads, the twelve set 
to work, for Julia’s proposal had the charm of novelty, 
and met no opposition. But when the time came for 
reading what had been written, the majority of the girls 


284 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


told what they hoped or planned, without confining them- 
selves strictly to their notes. 

Polly said that she had chosen to come to college 
because she was fond of study, and because it had been 
her father’s pleasure to tutor her in the classics. Out of 
a family of five girls, she had thought that one ought to 
have as good an education as a boy. “Besides,” she 
added, “it seemed rather a good joke to shock all our 
friends and relations, who thought it a terrible thing for a 
girl to go to college. Most people in the South still think 
so, although I have converted a few. Papa was a Har- 
vard man,” she added in an undertone, “and that’s why 
I came to Radcliffe, and that ’s all I have to say.” 

“ But what have you learned ? ” asked Clarissa. “ That ’s 
part of the game.” 

“Oh, everything,” responded Polly, “but chiefly that 
I am not the very brightest girl in the world, as some of 
my friends and admirers used to try to make me believe, 
when I lived down South.” 

“And your ideal?” asked Julia. 

“Oh, I ’m going to write the great novel of North and 
South. The subject is a large one, still I think that I can 
conquer it, but it will be years yet,” and Polly sighed 
heavily — for Polly. 

We know how Clarissa and Pamela happened to come to 
Radcliffe. Clarissa now confessed that she had learned at 
Cambridge that it was a good thing to live in a conven- 
tional place for a time and get the sharp edges rubbed off. 
She added that at school she had always been considered 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


285 


the smartest girl, but Radcliffe, she had found, was made 
up of the smartest girls from a good many schools, and 
the majority seemed to be able to hold their own quite as 
well as she. “What’s the matter with basket ball?” 
cried two voices in unison from the other side of the 
room, and Clarissa hastened to declare her ideal. This 
was, she said, to stay quietly at home with her parents 
for the next two or three years. “ They think that I ’ve 
been away too long, but if I really wish a profession at 
the end of that time, they will not interfere with my 
studying.” 

Pamela, after a moment’s hesitation, said that she had 
found Radcliffe a most encouraging place, and that instead 
of subduing a girl, as Clarissa implied, she thought that it 
tended to make her less timid. 

“Which shows,” interposed Polly, “that Radcliffe is 
very like the chameleon inspected by several persons, each 
of whom gave a different account of the little creature.” 

Pamela added that she was going to try for a European 
Fellowship, and, if possible, spend a year or more at the 
American School at Athens. 

Lois confessed that the pure love of study had drawn 
her to college, and Radcliffe had been her choice, be- 
cause while attending it she could also live at home. 
“Although,” she added, “I believe that there is no better 
college. Yet I so love study that even without Radcliffe 
I should have studied by myself. But college has been 
wonderfully broadening for me, especially during the past 
year, when I have had so many delightful friends. As to 


286 BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 

my ideal,” she concluded, “I am ashamed to say that my 
purpose has changed somewhat. I may not study medi- 
cine — at least not at present. I am going to teach for 
two years, and at the end of that time I shall try to 
go abroad for special research in Philosophy. There are 
certain theories that I can work out by myself while 
teaching and — after that — ” 

“Lois,” cried Esther Haines, one of the group, “mark 
my words, in two years you will be marching to the altar 
to the tune of ‘The Wedding March.’” 

“Nonsense,” cried Lois, “I am the last one to — ” But 
the others, noticing that Lois was evidently embarrassed, 
could not resist the temptation of teasing her. 

In time it was Annabel’s turn, and she announced that 
she had happened to come to Radcliffe merely because 
when on shipboard on her return from Europe she had 
met a Harvard man who had told her that this was the 
coming college for women, and that it was the thing for 
every clever girl to be educated there. “ ‘ Clever, ’ ” mur- 
mured Polly, “there’s nothing bashful about Annabel.” 
The latter added that she wasn’t sure that she had 
learned as much as she had expected, but for the present 
she should rest content, as she meant to devote the next 
two or three years to society, as her father had taken a 
house in Washington. But just as some of those present 
were thinking that Annabel was as vain as ever her tone 
changed a little, and she said in a somewhat more humble 
voice, “To be perfectly honest, I really have learned 
some things at RadclifEe, and later in the pvening, if you 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


287 


will let me, I wish to make a little confession of my 
own.” 

As if with one impulse Clarissa and Polly looked at 
each other significantly. Her meaning to the others 
was not so clear. Even Julia, failing to understand, 
hesitatingly gave her impressions of Radcliffe and her 
aims. 

“You needn’t tell us your aims in life,” cried Clarissa; 
“ to do so would be tautological, as you have been telling 
us constantly, ever since you came to college.” 

“ Why, Clarissa I ” and Lois looked almost angry. “ You 
would have us believe that J ulia is the most egotistic girl 
in the class.” 

“I am not unfair,” retorted Clarissa, “for you must 
agree that Julia is likely to have, after leaving college, 
much the same aim that she has had during her college 
days, — that of making every one about her as happy as 
possible.” 

Applause followed Clarissa’s explanation, and Julia 
withdrew from the room in confusion to order more logs 
for the fire. 

Ruth had confessed that she had been led to college 
from her curiosity as to how she should feel as “ the new 
woman” of whom all the newspapers were speaking. 
From their columns she judged that a college education 
was a very necessary part of this new woman’s equip- 
ment, and as she was fond of study she had persuaded 
her mother to let her take the Radcliffe course. 

“ Everything considered, you ought to have had a course 


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in Domestic Economy,” said Polly with mischievous 
intent. 

“Especially since your aims after college are so very 
evident to us all,” added Clarissa. 

“ Oh, I dare say that she ’ll make just as good a house- 
keeper. A college -trained mind is really a very good 
possession for a minister’s wife.” 

“Oh, Polly, Polly, you are incorrigible!” exclaimed 
Julia, returning at this moment, and handing Ruth a fire 
screen to shield her from the gaze of the others. Yet 
after all it was generally known that Ruth’s engagement 
would be announced on Class Day, and she and Will 
Hardon were situated so fortunately that the wedding, 
Julia knew, might take place within the year. 

It is worth noting that almost all the party gave love 
of study as their chief reason for choosing college. They 
had turned their faces from the pleasantly idle life of the 
average American girl, and from seventeen to twenty-one 
had been hard workers. Every one of them had sacrificed 
something in order to achieve her end, and almost all of 
them intended that their education should benefit others. 
Although the majority of Julia’s guests — like the majority 
of the class — meant to be teachers, several were looking 
forward to other useful work. Even Annabel, in her 
secret soul, had an idea that she was to reduce the frothi- 
ness of the social set into which she should be thrown in 
Washington. Esther Haines was one of the few who 
proposed a definite career of altruism. She was to spend 
her first year after graduating in the College Settlement in 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 289 

the east side of New York. She said that after her year’s 
experience she would know whether or not it was wise to 
become the agent of some charitable organization. She 
had an idea that she might prefer the foreign field. 
Esther was one of the class whom Julia had come to know 
best in her Senior year. The latter often regretted that her 
acquaintance with Esther had come so late in her course, 
for Esther was not a pale, dyspeptic altruist, but one of the 
cheerful, rosy-cheeked kind, and it was easy to see that her 
mission to the poor would be one of joy and hopefulness. 

Of the whole group Madge Burlap was the one, per- 
haps, who had had the hardest time in planning her 
course, for early in her Sophomore year her father had 
died, and at first it had seemed as if she must leave col- 
lege. Instead of wealth, she now had nothing but a few 
hundred dollars in the bank and many books, pictures, and 
personal belongings. These things she gradually sold — 
so gradually that she did not draw on herself the pity 
of her classmates. It had been hard to part with that 
morocco-bound edition of Stevenson, at a time when her 
English instructor was urging them all to an intimacy 
with the great Scotchman. But after all, with the 
money in her pocket and the books on Julia’s shelves, 
she was not so very badly off; for in negotiating for 
the sale of the Stevenson, her pleasant acquaintance 
with Julia had deepened into friendship. It had been 
harder to part with her Ruskin, for this set had been 
divided, Polly taking “The Stones of Venice,” Annabel 
“The Seven Lamps of Architecture,” and one or two 

19 


290 BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEEE 

others taking the rest. Madge was a good business 
woman, and she disposed of all her superfluous belongings 
except her camera. Yet that could not be counted a 
superfluity, since she made it pay for itself many times 
over, and her artistic views of Cambridge and the sur- 
rounding country were beginning to be in demand at one 
or two well-known stationers. 

“We know that you are a business woman and a pho- 
tographer, and since you won’t tell us your exact aim, I 
prophesy that you will make a fortune, Madge, in artistic 
photography,” said Polly. 

“Well, why not?” responded Madge, thinking of the 
three young brothers whom she was helping educate. “ A 
fortune in our family would be both useful and ornamental.” 

At last each girl of Julia’s party had read her confes- 
sion, and the others had given their approval. Each in 
turn had promised Julia to record what she had written or 
said in the crimson-covered blank-book, as a beginning of 
the archives to which the exercises of Class Day and Com- 
mencement were bound to add so much. It was then that 
Annabel’s clear voice was again heard. 

“ You must not forget my confession, although it is not 
for the red book.” 

“Oh, then, let’s hear it,” cried Madge Burlap, and the 
others echoed her wish. It happened that the group was 
now sitting in a semicircle around the fire. Annabel was 
in the centre, and as she spoke the others turned instinc- 
tively toward her. It suited her to be the centre of 
interest, and she began very dramatically: 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


291 


“Of course every one here remembers the afternoon 
when I recited so many things before the curtain went up, 
that afternoon two years ago when we had to wait so long 
for the Idler play to begin.” 

Annabel knew, naturally, that every one present did 
remember that day, and she continued; “You may recall, 
too, that there was much discussion afterwards about a 
strange girl who attended the performance — who — who 
threw me a very large bouquet. Well, perhaps some of 
you may also have heard that the girl was Loring Brad- 
shaw in disguise, who took that way of seeing a Radcliffe 
play. I recognized him, of course, but for certain reasons 
he did not wish any one else to know that he had done 
this. He was a little under a cloud in college, and he 
thought that this wouldn’t do him any good with the 
Faculty. Well, the affair did get out, and he always 
thought that this was the last straw that led to his suspen- 
sion. He knew that I had not told, and he was sure that 
no man in college would have done so. Then, I happened 
to mention that you. Miss Herter, had spoken of it at Rad- 
cliffe, and he looked on you as the cause of his troubles with 
Harvard. So it happened one day that he walked home 
with me as I was carrying your note-book in History 100 
that 1 had borrowed. Your name was in large letters on the 
cover, and he insisted on carrying the book away. I could 
not prevent him, for he simply took it from me. I wrote 
him a severe letter that night, and the book came back to 
me promptly the next day. He said that it had served 
his purpose, but I had no idea of his meaning until that 


292 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEEE 


newspaper article appeared. I did not care to tell people 
that Loring was undoubtedly responsible, and besides, 
just then. Miss Herter, I was perfectly willing to have it 
appear that you were to blame. They were certainly your 
notes, and I had no way of proving that Loring had con- 
cocted the article. ” 

There was silence when Annabel finished. Before any 
one else could speak, she continued : “ I wish to say now 
that I am very sorry that I let so many hold a wrong 
opinion, for of course I knew that they held it. But I was 
annoyed about this, although I know now that Polly and 
Clarissa had nothing to do with the Mr. Radcliffe affair as 
I thought at first.” 

“ Thank you ! ” cried Polly. 

Well, I ’ve realized for some time that I do not deserve 
to be Class President. In fact, even before Clarissa rescued 
me I had begun to see that I was a mean and jealous kind 
of a person. ” 

“ There ! there ! ” exclaimed Polly, rising to her feet, 
“ we won’t allow too much humility in the President of 
the class. We’ve all made some mistakes of judgment, 
and I myself have been about the worst of all.” 

“ Ah ! ” continued Annabel, “ you are too good, but I 
have learned more than any one else in finding out that 
girls can be generous to one another.” 

“ There ! ” cried Clarissa, taking her place beside Polly. 
“In the language of the poet, ‘ Enough said.’ ” 

Clarissa disliked scenes. 


XXVII 


NEAKING CLASS DAY 

As Class Day approached, the class began to feel that 
the end was indeed near at hand. Thoughtful girls like 
Julia and Lois found a special significance in everything 
that they did; “for the last time” meant a great deal to 
them, and even the unsentimental Clarissa quoted Tenny- 
son with an approach to correctness : 

** Tears, idle tears, I know not why ye fall, — 

Tears from the depth of some divine despair.” 

During May the class had had many attentions paid it 
by the other undergraduates, as well as by different pro- 
fessors and their wives, — “a continuous performance,” as 
Polly phrased it, of farewells ; and that girl would indeed 
have been stony-hearted who had not felt that all these 
things had made her parting with Cambridge a little 
harder. There had come a lull in these festivities during 
the examination season of early June, for in comparison 
with all other examination periods this one had an enor- 
mous importance for many Seniors. Even girls who had 
done well throughout their course showed an unnecessary 
nervousness, and were sincere in fearing that in some 
unexpected way they might lower their records. Few of 


294 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


them, perhaps, expected to fail, but those girls who had 
set their hearts on a degree summa cum^ magna cum^ or 
even simply cum laude^ felt that much depended on the 
marks of these final examinations. 

But when the examinations were at an end, worry, too, 
departed, and few indeed were the Seniors who did not 
enter whole-heartedly into the pleasures of these last days. 

The work of the various class committees had been 
completed some weeks before, and to the credit of the 
class all had worked together harmoniously. Even in 
the election of the committees most little rivalries and 
jealousies had disappeared, and if in all instances precisely 
the right girl was not in the right place, no one criticised 
or found fault. As Class President Annabel was Chair- 
man of the General Committee, Ruth of the Invitation 
Committee, Julia was Chairman of the Committee on 
Class Exercises, Clarissa was chief of the Photograph 
Committee, and Pamela, in spite of her protestations, had 
a place on the Baccalaureate Committee. 

So energetic had Clarissa been as Chairman of her com- 
mittee and so conscientious in securing the best photo- 
graphs that some of her classmates made really pathetic 
complaints. 

“ Sometimes, when I think that I am going to have an 
hour of leisure, an hour when I may sink in the depths 
of my easychair and refresh myself with Meredith, — 
George, not Owen, — there comes a gentle tapping at the 
door, and I rise to receive a note reminding me that I am 
part of a group that is to be photographed under the 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


295 


broiling noon sun, and that I am especially requested to 
wear a pleasanter expression than usual. I belong to so 
many groups,” concluded Polly sadly, “that my Senior 
May has been one long noonday glare of sittings before 
the camera. When there was nothing else happening, 
some amateur was taking a snap-shot, to add me to her 
album of Radcliffe views. I cannot tell you how many 
times I have been caught in unconscious attitudes, cross- 
ing the tennis court, or leaning against a tree, or seated 
on the steps. I always try to look my best at such times, 
because — ” 

“You spoke of unconscious attitudes,” commented a lis- 
tening Junior. 

“ Hush, child ! When you are a Senior you will under- 
stand things better,” replied the irrepressible Polly; “and 
to prevent further criticism, I will give you a specimen of 
my most unconscious smile,” and the younger girl accepted 
Polly’s latest photograph — a full length in cap and 
gown. 

“My time for teasing you, Polly, will come to-morrow,” 
said the Junior, “for you may be my vis-^-vis in a canoe, 
and if you are not careful I may tip you — just a little way 
— into the river.” 

But Polly refused to be frightened by this mild threat, 
and when the canoe set out it was Polly who held the 
paddle. This excursion on the river was the form into 
which the Juniors offered their hospitality to the depart- 
ing class, and a merry time they had with a picnic supper 
spread in a grove on the river bank, 


296 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIEEE 


The Sophomores invited the Seniors to a dramatic per- 
formance in the open air, after which — for almost the last 
time as undergraduates — the guests were treated to the 
familiar fudge and college ice. If the fudge was over- 
sweet and the ice over-watery, nobody criticised the feast. 
Indeed, the affair was considered remarkably successful, 
since the Sophomores were thought to have been ex- 
tremely clever in having discovered that the Radcliffe 
grounds were large enough for such festivity. All the 
audience, to be sure, except the Seniors, had sat pretty 
closely together on rugs and shawls spread on the grass. 
But the Seniors in their camp chairs were not crowded; 
and though the setting of the mimic stage was rather 
Shakespearian in its simplicity, it sufficed for the little 
play. For the whole action was supposed to take place on 
the links where two golfers engaged in some sentimental 
sparring, and a caddie and a country maid furnished the 
burlesque element. 

Of all the events of that last month none was more 
enjoyable than the reception given by the Athletic Asso- 
ciation to the Senior basket ball team, as a special ac- 
knowledgment of its prowess in gaining the championship. 
For Clarissa and her nine had not only vanquished the 
younger classes, but had won certain victories over outside 
colleges that had almost turned the heads of the athleti- 
cally inclined. Indeed, some of those girls who seldom set 
foot in the Gymnasium except when obliged to exercise 
went to this reception to honor the team. For it was the 
proud boast of the athletes that no girl on the team would 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


297 


have a degree graded lower than cum laude^ and thus the 
outside world would see that mental and physical exercise 
could go on at the same time. As for Clarissa — well, 
every one knew that she showed marked ability in every- 
thing that she undertook, and no one, not even Annabel, 
grudged her her honors. To her undoubtedly belonged the 
chief credit for the glory that came to the class in bearing 
away the banner of championship. This was more than a 
compensation for their losses in the tennis tournament. 

“Few classes,” said Polly proudly, “will go out in a 
greater blaze of glory. With Clarissa getting us the 
championship, and Pamela winning that two hundred and 
fifty dollar thesis prize, all eyes will be turned upon us.” 

“They always are turned on the graduating class,” 
responded Julia, to whom she spoke. “But it’s delight- 
ful, is it not, that these special honors have come through 
girls to whom some of us were not inclined to pay much 
attention in our Freshman year.” 

“‘Some of us’ is good,” rejoined Polly, “when we 
remember that you always had unlimited confidence in the 
two heroines.” 

“I always liked them,” said Julia quietly, “as I saw 
that others must when they knew them better.” 

To picture the scene in the Gymnasium demands the 
painter’s brush rather than the pen, for it was no formal 
reception such as any group of girls could give in any 
house. Far from it! Though the day was fairly warm, 
the star athletes did their best for the entertainment of 
their guests. They performed feats that made the blood 


298 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


of some of the uninitiated run cold. They went up and 
down ladders, and climbed ropes, and swung on rings, 
and leaped over bars, and showed enormous agility, if they 
undertook no difficult tests of strength. 

Those girls who were not in the R. A. A. stood about 
in their light muslin gowns, and clapped and cheered a 
steady approval; and the others in their picturesque gym- 
nasium suits clapped and cheered even more loudly. They 
did not shriek, not they, when Clarissa at the apex of a 
pyramidal arrangement of ladders seemed about to fall. 
They knew that she was safe, and Clarissa was soon ready 
for her triumphant descent. 

But some of the girls in light gowns did exclaim at the 
critical moment in tones loud enough to have frightened a 
timid gymnast, and some thought it a pity that Clarissa 
should have to work so hard when she was really the 
guest of honor, and some thought that she was making a 
needless display of her prowess. Yet as Clarissa poised 
herself at the top of the ladder before starting down, a 
mighty cheer went up from the whole throng, and Clar- 
issa, with beaming eyes and flushed cheeks, waved them 
her appreciation of their appreciation before beginning the 
descent. 

After the banner had been duly presented, after the 
team had made its acknowledgment, after every one who 
could make a speech had said the proper thing, the 
R. A. A. returned to everyday costume, and the three 
or four hundred girls wandered about the grounds until 
summoned to college ice in the Auditorium. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


299 


For Julia the spring had an added charm from the fact 
that Philip took so much interest in everything. Though 
working for his degree, he was constantly planning little 
parties of eight or a dozen to see this or that baseball 
game or the spring athletic meets. Whoever the others 
might be, Julia was always of the party. 

“ 1 have not known so much of Harvard doings in all 
my four years,” she said one day as they set out fora 
Princeton game, “ and I feel foolishly frivolous in my old 
age.” There was no sign of old age in the bright-eyed 
girl who waved the Harvard flag, even up to the moment 
of Princeton’s victory. The general excitement, and the 
fact that it was a Princeton game, reminded Julia of that 
other Princeton game more than five years before when 
Harvard was victorious at football, and when Philip had 
shown himself just a little bored by having to escort a 
“parcel of girls.” 

Thus with some pleasant diversions lightening the un- 
escapable hard work of the examination period, the spring 
passed away, and the Monday before Class Day found the 
whole class ready to enjoy the happenings of the week. 
To Julia early that Monday morning came a note from 
Philip saying that his degree was assured, and that he 
had nothing to trouble him now except the fear that she 
might not get hers. Julia smiled as she read the friendly 
little note, and thought how greatly Philip had changed 
from the Philip of old. 

The first event of the day was a luncheon given by 
the former Secretary of the Annex and Regent of Rad- 


300 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


cliff e and his wife, at their Cambridge house. To them 
more than to any others was due the credit of planning the 
collegiate work for women that had finally resulted in 
establishing Radcliffe College. The Secretary was always 
ready to answer the many questions asked by the eager girls 
about the small beginnings of the college, and to the more 
thoughtful it was a wonderfully interesting story. 

After the luncheon Annabel was called upon for a 
speech, and she was followed by half a dozen others, each 
of whom were ready-witted in responding to the im- 
promptu toasts. 

From the luncheon they went on to a reception at Craigie 
House. The poet’s daughter had also been one of the 
founders of the college, and the girls or classes honored 
with an invitation to Craigie House were always envied 
by the others. 

Clarissa and Pamela, on this afternoon of the class re- 
ception, in a spirit of veneration, went almost on tiptoe into 
the study, now looking just as Longfellow left it almost 
twenty years ago. There near a window overlooking the 
Charles they saw the high writing desk at which he wrote 
standing, with some of his quill pens lying on it. They 
noted the great orange tree in the other window that had 
grown from a seed planted by Longfellow. The portraits 
of Hawthorne and Emerson, and the little water-color 
sketch of the village blacksmith’s shop, all came in for 
their share of attention. But perhaps most interesting of 
all was the portrait of the poet himself, in his fur-trimmed 
coat, painted by his son, on an easel near the fireplace. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


301 


The class wandered from the quaintly furnished room 
known as Martha Washington’s parlor to the large draw- 
ing-room back of the study, with its many art treasures 
gathered in Europe. They strolled over the broad lawn, 
and each girl felt that this reception at the Longfellow 
House was something that no other event of Commence- 
ment week could surpass. 

Their own Class Day was the Wednesday before that of 
Harvard, and in the intervening day or two the class had 
little time to spare. The invitations had been out since 
the end of May, and all the preparations had been carefully 
made. 

The literary exercises took place in the forenoon, with 
only the class as audience. “ Thankful enough we ought 
to be,” said Ruth, “that cut and dried speeches in a hall 
have not yet been adopted by Radcliffe. It would be so 
hard to have to explain our jokes even to our sympathetic 
friends and relatives, and there would always be some 
present who would think undignified any alleged witti- 
cisms that we might offer.” 

Sure, therefore, of a friendly audience, Annabel gave 
the Class History, and Polly the Class Prophecy. Ruth 
had written the words of a Class Song for which Julia had 
composed the music. There was a Class Poem by Estelle 
Ambler, a girl whose verses had lately appeared in several 
of the magazines, and it was rumored that Clarissa was to 
make an original contribution to the programme which no 
one was to know about until the last moment. 

Annabel’s History was even cleverer than her classmates 


302 


BRENDA'S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


had expected. She reviewed brightly the various events 
of the undergraduate years, scholastic and athletic, with 
the usual gentle gibes at History I and English 22, and 
the trials offered by Junior forensics and daily themes; 
and she made all laugh by the originality of her class 
statistics. 

“We are 1,378 years old,” she read from her manu- 
script, “ 2, 942 feet high, and we weigh a little less than 
four tons. During our four college years we have studied 
26,134,720 minutes, and at Mrs. Agassiz’ Wednesday 
afternoons we have drunk in all about 7, 000 cups of tea. 
During our four years we have used about 260 pints or 
32.5 gallons of ink, and 5,636,250 pages of theme paper, 
which would cover about 5,000,000 square inches. The 
actual time spent in writing examinations has been just 96 
days, of 24 hours each. For this work 5,240 blue-books 
have been necessary, and 320 quarts of Mrs. Hogan’s beef 
tea. In listening to lectures we have spent 30,000 hours, 
or 1,800,000 minutes. The Secretary knows that we have 
been eager searchers for knowledge, for at the lowest esti- 
mate we have asked her 2,470 questions, to which she has 
returned 2,470 patient and obliging answers. Now that 
we are about to depart to the four corners of the earth, we 
shall never forget old Radcliffe, nor the blue-books, even 
though we forget what filled them. We shall always 
remember the honored President and the Dean and the 
Secretary, and all who have smoothed our path here for 
us, and we shall never forget that we shall always belong 
to the Class of 189- of Radcliffe College.” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


303 


A Class Poem can never be very original, but Estelle 
Ambler offered one that was extremely smooth and pleas- 
ing, and to the point. Polly followed it with a Prophecy, 
in which she imagined all kinds of things likely to happen 
to the rest of the class. “Prophecies contrary to fact,” 
many of them might have been called, for Polly foretold 
the early marriage of several of those girls who were the 
least devoted to society and the most devoted to study, 
while for Annabel and Ruth and Clarissa she prophesied 
many long years of toil as teachers or professors in school 
or college. Business careers were foretold for the un- 
practical, and those girls gifted with a sense of humor had 
a chance, in Polly’s gentle satire, to see themselves as 
others had seen them ; and they all smiled at her conclud- 
ing words, which she said embodied the sentiments of 
most of those inclined to give advice to college girls that 
the main advantage of a college education for a woman 
is that it fits her, or ought to fit her, “to take up the 
duties and responsibilities of a household, that by bringing 
her accurately trained mind to bear upon the practical de- 
tails of life, and exercising the acquired acumen of her 
mind, she can make homes happier than they ever were 
before, and — ” The final words were lost in the applause 
that greeted this familiar commonplace; and Polly, ac- 
knowledging a wreath of roses laid at her feet, bowed 
gracefully as she descended from the Auditorium stage. 

There was a hum of expectation as Clarissa followed 
Polly on the stage, carrying a large, stiff-looking roll. 
Unfolding it, she announced that she had been made Class 


304 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


Attorney, and that to her had been intrusted the making 
of the Class Will, which she would now read. 

The things that she bequeathed were chiefly the com- 
mon property of the class, such as “the superior smile 
when some underclass girl asks a question that cannot be 
answered ; ” to the incoming Freshman class the “ privilege 
of profiting by the advice which their Senior advisers will 
give upon every occasion ; ’’ and last, though not least, in 
the minds of some, “the privilege of collecting on the 
slightest provocation sums of money, great or small, in 
exchange for tickets to entertainments, or without such 
consideration, to support divers good causes in Boston and 
Cambridge, especially those connected with settlement and 
college work ; and the less ready money any girl is sup- 
posed to have, the more urgent shall be the appeals.” 

To the Sophomores among other things were given the 
right of assuming “the nonchalant title of Junior,” and 
“ the faculty and right of saying to Seniors who are loath 
to depart this college life, ‘ Oh, well, we have a whole year 
more,’ in a way that makes a year sound an eternity.” 

The Senior rights in various college ofiicials and in 
certain college properties were likewise bequeathed, and 
the mock solemnity of the whole thing brought the pro- 
gramme to a close with a chorus of laughter. Then after 
the class had sung Julia’s Class Song, there was an informal 
half-hour of choruses and solos, and then a great hurrying 
homeward, that each girl might have an hour of rest before 
the grand climax of the day. 

For some of the class, however, there could be no rest. 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


305 


as many, besides those on the committees, were anxious to 
do their part in helping. But beautiful though the deco- 
rations of Fay House were, they paled into insignificance 
before the outdoor glories, for clever brains and skilful 
hands had made the most of the opportunities afforded by 
the limited area of the grounds. There were lines of 
lanterns between the trees, and a wonderful pagoda that 
seemed to be constructed of lanterns ; there were tables on 
the lawns, laden with refreshments, and each Senior shook 
hands with dozens of persons and answered scores of 
questions, and had little opportunity to talk with the 
person she most wished to talk with, and walked ten 
miles more or less showing each of her special guests the 
points of interest in and around the college buildings. 
Each Senior, too, looked her very best in her simple 
white gown, and the crowds of Harvard students who 
were in attendance testified that socially at least Radcliffe 
was in no way unpopular with the older college. So 
weary were the Seniors as the evening advanced that they 
had little strength left to dance in the new Gymnasium. 
But the undergraduates and their other guests made up 
for their own lack in this respect. 

Pamela had invited Miss Batson and all the young 
ladies who boarded with her, and probably no guests en- 
joyed the day more than they. Besides her own family 
and some of her younger Newton friends, Lois invited 
Miss Ambrose, and those who were in the secret of Miss 
Ambrose’s aspirations could see that through her interest 
in Lois her own youth had been renewed. There was a 

20 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


rumor that she and Lois were to go to Europe that sum- 
mer, and whether that was true or not, any one seeing 
them together could perceive that the feeling between 
them was stronger than that of mere friendliness. Clar- 
issa’s father and mother had come on from Kansas, and 
several of her friends and relatives from the West. 
Annabel’s father, a New York politician, was so pleased 
that his daughter had retained the Presidency of the class 
that he was anxious to do all kinds of pleasant things for 
her constituents, and had finally arranged a mammoth pop 
concert party for Saturday evening. J ulia, like the other 
Boston girls, had many guests, but the Bostonians were 
better able to entertain themselves than those who came 
from a distance. 

Julia, for example, felt little responsibility for her uncle 
and aunt. They had many friends on the grounds, as had 
Nora and Edith and the rest of their party. She caught 
glimpses of Brenda constantly flitting about in her firefly 
fashion, with Arthur Weston in attendance. It was an 
open secret that Brenda’s engagement to Arthur was to 
come out before Commencement, and those who knew 
them the best had already offered the young people their 
congratulations. Many of the class, too, knew that Ruth 
and Will Harden were also on the verge of having their 
engagement announced, and an observer might have 
thought that there was something more than good com- 
radeship in the devotion with which Philip followed Julia 
from place to place. Julia had used not only the invita- 
tions to which she was entitled as a member of the class, 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


307 


but she had been able to secure many in addition from 
girls who did not need all their own allotment. She was 
able, therefore, to invite not only her former classmates at 
Miss Crawdon’s, but the teachers, too. Miss South was 
there in the light mourning that she wore for Madame 
Dulaunay. Those who knew her were wondering what 
she would do with the great house that her grandmother 
had left her, which it would be hard to keep up on a 
comparatively small income. 

Of all those whom Julia had known best at Miss Craw- 
don’s school. Belle alone was missing. By this it need 
not be understood that any one really missed her, for 
Belle, since she had been sent to New York to boarding- 
school, had really dropped out of the little set in which 
she had once been a leading member. In vacations some 
of her new friends visited her or she visited them, and 
she laughed at the ways of her Boston contemporaries as 
“far behind the time.” She and Brenda always kept up 
a correspondence, and her letters, though wholly about 
herself, were always entertaining. She had already left 
Boston to stay with friends at Mount Desert. 

“But why RadclifPe College?” asked one of Polly’s 
guests, her cousin from New York. 

“Yes, where did you get that name?” asked another 
cousin, walking with her. 

“Why, from Lady Anne Moulson, of course,” re- 
sponded Polly, not at all unwilling to tell the story. 
“From Lady Anne Moulson, who was once Anne Rad- 
cliffe, and who founded the first scholarship at Harvard. 


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The fact was unearthed just as the poor little nameless 
Annex was ready to appear out as a regular institution, 
and so she was christened Radcliffe College. Some did 
not care for the name, and would have preferred Longfel- 
low College or something else local, but on the whole it 
seemed the best that could have been chosen.” 

“ I trust that Lady Moulson deserved the posthumous 
fame that has come to her, for certainly your college will 
give her name undying glory,” said one of the cousins 
gallantly in true Southern fashion, though he modified 
his praise slightly lest Polly should think that he wholly 
approved of a college education for girls. 

To show herself impartial, Julia carried Tom Hearst’s 
flowers as well as Philip’s on Class Day. But it was 
Philip with whom she walked about the grounds after her 
duties as hostess were over, and Philip with whom she 
promised to go to Memorial Hall on the evening of Har- 
vard Class Day, and Philip who was to be her escort at 
the Yale game the succeeding Saturday. Yet though 
they had many little conversations, and although what 
they said was largely personal, it must be admitted that 
there was not a word of sentiment in it all, — of sentiment, 
at least, as it is understood in its more romantic sense. 
They did talk, however, a great deal about their plans for 
the immediate future. Philip had decided to regard his 
father’s wishes, by taking his two years in the Law 
School, hoping that his previous reading and some special 
effort would take him through in less than three years. 
Julia confided to him certain ideas that she and Miss 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


309 


South hoped to carry out in the form of a training school 
for girls of the Angelina type. Philip’s face clouded 
when she told him that she should sail for Europe in July, 
with her uncle and aunt and Brenda and Miss South. 

“ But you ’ll be back in the autumn?” urged Philip. 

“Oh, possibly.” 

“ But I ’m depending on you for advice and that kind of 
thing.” 

“Edith is a better adviser than I.” 

“Ah, but Edith isn’t a college graduate.” 

“Nor am I yet,” and Julia would give Philip no further 
satisfaction. Instead she wandered off, with a hasty good- 
bye to Philip, explaining only that as one of the hostesses 
of the day, she must look after her other guests. 

Philip, following her, soon found himself in a group of 
which the central figure was Pamela. The two had not 
met since the spring following the sugar episode, and 
altogether had seen each other but two or three times. 
Yet now the recognition was mutual, and both had in- 
stantly the same thought, that each had greatly improved 
during the intervening three years. He lingered to talk to 
Pamela, and he had no chance to talk to Julia until later 
in the evening. 

Although Philip felt dissatisfied, Julia had really given 
him more time than most Seniors had given to any one 
person on that busy, busy Class Day. Yet he kept his 
eye on her, and whenever he could induce her to leave her 
other guests, he would get her to walk with him over 
the building or through the grounds, on the pretext that 


310 


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there were many things that he wished to have explained 
about Radcliffe ways. Together Julia and Philip watched 
the gay throng of dancers in the Auditorium, and in an 
interval when the latter laughed at the crowded condition 
of the floor, Julia repeated the rumor that the next Senior 
class would dance in the great Gymnasium, as those in 
authority had already given their consent to this plan. 

“ That will be the proper thing, because — ” 

“ Hush! ” cried Julia, “ the Glee Club is going to sing; ” 
and as she spoke, to the air of “Fair Harvard” floated the 
words : 

“ Now a song for our RadclifEe, so young and so fair, 

With the light of the dawn in her eyes, 

With the garlands of May in her beautiful hair, 

Blest child of the true and the wise.” 

As the song finished, Mrs. Barlow approached Julia, to 
remind her that the hour was late, and that the two car- 
riages were already waiting, — one to take the Barlow 
party back to Boston, and one to convey Julia and Ruth 
to Mrs. Colton’s. 

As Julia and Ruth drove homeward, the former gave a 
sigh of relief. 

“Are n’t you glad it ’s over? ” asked Ruth. 

“Partly glad and partly sorry, ” responded her friend. 
“It has been tiring, of course, but then so pleasant.” 

“Yes, and to-morrow when we are rested, we shall be 
Sony that Class Day is past.” 

“I am sorry now,” returned Julia, “for it marks the 
beginning of the end.” 


xxviir 


COMMENCEMENT — AND THE END 

As Julia sat in church on Baccalaureate Sunday she felt 
sadder than on any occasion since the class had begun to 
take its farewell of Cambridge and of college life, for 
now they were together for the last time before Com- 
mencement as the Senior class in cap and gown. 

The last day was near at hand, and after that final 
assembling in Sanders Theatre, it was unlikely that these 
threescore girls would ever be all together again in the 
same place. Impressive though the sermon was, more 
than once Julia had to recall her thoughts from wandering 
in a review of the past four years. Had she herself made 
the best use of her time? Was there not some girl among 
the Seniors to whom she might have been more helpful 
than she had been — in ways intangible if not material? 
Had she herself drawn all the inspiration she might have 
drawn from her classmates ? She had learned much from 
her intimates, but had she been sufficiently appreciative of 
some of the others or responsive to them ? Thoughts like 
these so mingled themselves with her impressions of the 
sermon that she left the church in a state of abstraction. 

Questions such as Julia had asked herself can never 
receive a definite answei*. The wisest of us makes many 


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mistakes, and the most foolish would be plunged in con- 
stant despair if she had to call herself to account at every 
step. To do her best is the most that can be asked of any 
girl, and if only she tries to learn from her errors, what- 
ever her past faults, she can turn hopefully to the future. 

Julia, fortunately, had comparatively little occasion for 
self-reproach; for if she had made the very most of her 
opportunities at Radcliffe — if she had left nothing undone 
that should have been done — she would have been the 
only one of her kind. Thoughts like these of Julia’s 
presented themselves to nearly every girl in the class — 
from Pamela the over-conscientious to careless Polly. 
Even the self-sufficient Annabel talked in a less self- 
satisfied manner, as she walked homeward from church 
accompanied by two or three of her best friends. 

The three days intervening between Class Day and 
Baccalaureate Sunday had been very full. Friday had 
been Harvard Class Day, and there wasn’t a girl in the 
class who did not know at least one Harvard Senior. It 
was the first Class Day for Julia since the year of Philip’s 
failure, and the things that she did seemed a repetition of 
the happenings of that other year. There was but one 
marked change: the Tree exercises had been given up, 
and a less strenuous performance went on around the John 
Harvard statue on the delta. Confetti took the place of 
flowers, and the whole affair was carried on in the most 
gentlemanly way. Yet Julia, like many others, thought 
with regret of the old struggle around the Tree — regret 
that it wa$ to be no more» Philip, although he realized 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


313 


better than any one else that this was not his real Class 
Day, yet managed to get a great deal of fun out of it. 
Tom Hearst and some of his former classmates, now about 
to be graduated from the Law School, gave a small tea in 
the early evening, and it proved a reunion of the group of 
young people who had been together so much at Rockley 
and in Boston. Brenda’s engagement had come out that 
very day, and she and Arthur Weston received the con- 
gratulations showered on them in a fashion that amused 
eveiy one. They were surprised that their friends were 
not surprised. 

“ I am sure that I have always complained of the way 
Arthur teased me,” pouted Brenda, “and I never really 
made up my mind until — ” 

“When?” shouted Tom Hearst, noting with delight 
that Brenda was embarrassed. But Brenda refused to 
answer. 

Ruth and Will Harden had an equally large share of con- 
gratulations, and they would have been astonished had their 
friends not taken their engagement as a matter of course. 

On Saturday the same group of young people went to 
the Yale-Harvard game on Soldier’s Field, and after they 
had returned home from Annabel’s concert party, Ruth and 
Julia were tired enough. 

Kaleidoscopic visions of the past week’s festivities 
mingled with Julia’s more serious thoughts that Bacca- 
laureate Sunday, as she scratched off the dates on her 
calendar that showed only two days remaining of college 
life. 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


But at last the eventful Tuesday had come — the Com- 
mencement that was to end the undergraduate days of the 
class. They had breakfasted that morning with the Dean, 
and had met many of their instructors at the informal 
reception that followed. Commencement was at half-past 
four o’clock, and promptly at that hour, while the orches- 
tra in the gallery was playing, a long procession filed into 
Sanders Theatre. The amphitheatre was already filled 
with guests who had been ushered to their seats by Har- 
vard Seniors. At the head of the procession walked the 
President of Harvard, and on his arm leaned the President 
of Radcliffe — stately and benign. Close behind were the 
Dean, the Secretary, the members of the Governing Board 
of Radcliffe and the Overseers of Harvard, with whose 
approval the degrees were granted. 

All these took their seats on the platform, and at the 
left sat the Radcliffe Glee Club. The Seniors in cap and 
gown at the end of the procession marched to places on 
the floor of the theatre directly under the stage. It was 
hard for them to maintain their dignity without turning 
around, when they knew that in the balconies were so 
many of those with whom they would have liked to ex- 
change a glance and a nod. 

After the prayer, and the singing of “ Integer Vitae ” 
by the Glee Club, the President of Radcliffe congratulated 
the class on their four years’ work, and on the special 
honors that had come to some of them. She told of the 
improving prospects of the college, and mentioned several 
gifts that had been made during the year. The moskini^ 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


315 


portant news was the statement that one generous donor 
had given the whole sum needed to build a handsome 
dormitory, — the first Radcliffe dormitory, — and at this 
news there was loud applause. 

The address that followed by the President of Harvard — 
a dignified and scholarly address — showed deep sympathy 
with the aims of college girls, many of whom had gained 
their degrees at the cost of certain things that most young 
girls might think more attractive. He called attention to 
the fact that the experiment of the higher education of 
women had lasted now for two generations, with satis- 
factory results. He added that the degrees about to be 
granted had been properly won, for they represent as hard 
a training as the more vigorous young men receive, and he 
concluded with a hope that some at least of the women 
graduates might show themselves possessed of the crea- 
tive faculty, and add something to the world’s stock of 
knowledge. 

“Aren’t the Seniors to take any part? Isn’t there a 
valedictory or something of that kind?” asked Edith of 
her neighbor Nora, as a little pause followed the Presi- 
dent’s address. 

“ Oh, no, that is n’t the way. I suppose it ’s the only 
college in the country where the class has no preparation 
for Commencement.” 

“It’s much the best way,” said Mr. Blair, overhearing 
what the girls said. “ A great deal of needless effort is 
wasted on useless speeches for Commencement. It’s as 
fatiguing to the audience as to the Seniors themselves. 


1 


316 BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 

This way, it seems to me, is much best. It is so simple 
and dignified.” 

“Yes, but some people are disappointed at not seeing 
the class celebrities,” responded Edith. “Of course we 
know something about Clarissa and Lois and Pamela and 
the others who have distinguished themselves.” 

“Not to mention Julia,” interposed Nora. 

“Yes, naturally; well, we know all these girls by sight, 
but there must be many here who have never seen them, 
and who would be very glad to know who ’s who.” 

“Well, they are all there; and if we listen, we may be 
able to fit the right name to the right girl.” 

Of all in that great audience, perhaps no one was more 
disappointed than Angelina at the simplicity of the pro- 
gramme. Julia had had a card of invitation sent her, and 
she had come in a wonderful yellow hat covered with large 
pink flowers, and a gown of the brightest pink gingham. 
She had fully expected that Julia would be the centre of 
interest, and she was really grieved that one who had been 
so kind to her had not been given an opportunity at least 
to sing or play something from the operetta. Besides, she 
had a personal disappointment in the fact that she could 
not present to Julia the immense bouquet that she had 
brought with her from Shiloh. She had had the whole 
scene planned. In the midst of a burst of applause she 
would advance toward the stage, and, with a curtsy that 
she had been practising, fling the bouquet at Julia’s feet, 
at the close of her performance, whatever it was. But 
now Julia was no more conspicuous than the others of the 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


317 


class. She had neither sung nor made an oration, and 
Angelina herself had had no opportunity for a dramatic 
appearance before the audience. Her curtsy had been 
practised in vain ; and Angelina, as she grasped the flowers, 
looked decidedly woe-begone. 

But at last the Seniors were passing in single file toward 
the platform to receive their degrees, and each girl as her 
name was called received the crimson-tied parchment 
from the hands of the President. Before the Seniors 
several Alumnae received their M.A. But the receiving 
of the degrees in the presence of that great audience was 
not unalloyed bliss. Even Lois and Pamela with summa 
cum^ and Clarissa and Julia and others with their magnas^ 
and Polly and Ruth with cum laude^ felt a thrill of sadness 
as they passed down the steps in front of the dignified 
statue of Josiah Quincy. 

Their undergraduate days were over ! 

That evening as Alumnae they were cordially welcomed 
to an Alumnae dinner by the older graduates, and if they 
felt uncomfortably warm wearing their long black gowns 
over their white dresses, there were compensations; for 
there was a satisfaction when Clarissa responded to one of 
the toasts to hear her speech called the wittiest ever made 
by a graduate, for Clarissa belonged to the whole class. 
Then, too, some of Polly’s songs were so enthusiastically 
received that it was a delight to remember that two others 
of the class, Julia the composer of the music and Ruth 
who had written the words, shared the credit with the gay 
singer. 


318 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


At dusk the gay crowd wandered out on the lawn, where 
the Glee Club sang, and old friends gathered in little 
groups to talk over the happenings of the past year. 

“ In a year we shall be old graduates, ” said Ruth with 
a sigh; “already I begin to feel the change. It seems as 
if everything has been, as if — ” 

“Nonsense,” interposed Julia, “everything is to be. 
Our undergraduate days are past, and yet I doubt that 
any of us would really care to live them over again. We 
can be thankful for what we have learned here, but after 
all, the sooner we can take our places in the world, the 
better. College life at the best is selfish — ” 

“There — there, Julia, don’t preach! Look at Fay 
House. It is almost picturesque.” 

As they stood at the gate, the two girls turned and 
gazed at the old building, whose outlines in the dusk 
showed dimly through the screen of elms. Lights shone 
from some of its upper windows, and it looked like a 
stately palace. 

This was undoubtedly the thought in Julia’s mind as 
she cried, turning away, “Good-bye, Palace of Learn- 
ing,” while Ruth added, “Good-bye, great Class of 
189 -.” 

Truly, it had been a great class, but its undergraduate 
days were over. 


XXIX 


A GLANCE BACKWARD 

Although stories of college life are supposed to end 
where the class is graduated, those who accompany a group 
of girls through the important four years, in imagination 
at least, are apt to travel much farther than Commencement. 

Sometimes, indeed, we know our heroines so well that 
we fancy we should quickly recognise them, years even 
after graduation. Now no one would have been quicker 
than Julia to repudiate the title “heroine,” — and yet this 
story will have been ill told if it does not make the fact 
clear that Julia for us was the centre of interest during her 
Radcliffe years. We, therefore, should have no difficulty 
in recognising her as one of a group of girls seated at a 
little table in a large College hall one pleasant autumn 
afternoon, not very long ago. Although some of the class 
already profess to feel twice as old as on that memorable 
Commencement, they have not yet celebrated their decen- 
nial, and until that anniversary arrives no graduate can 
properly boast of her length of years, or her gray hair, and 
to her friends she is still a girl. 

If we so readily recognise Julia, it would indeed be 
strange if in the girl seated beside her we should fail to 
identify our old friend Polly. For Polly, in spite of the 


320 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


dignity given her by several years of married life, is still 
Polly. Voice and manner are unchanged, and evidently 
she has not lost her old flow of wit, for as they listen to 
her, her hearers laugh merrily at some story she is telling. 
Yes, this is indeed Polly — with the old smile, and the old 
manner — so delightfully Polly that the severest Mentor 
would not think of reproving her for leaning her elbow on 
the table in a manner far from matronly. 

Yet, while we so readily recognise Julia and Polly, we 
find it hard to believe that the large hall where they sit is 
one of the Radcliffe buildings. In its wildest dreams our 
particular class had never imagined so splendid a students’ 
house, an Elizabeth Cary Agassiz Hall — and Polly is 
justified in loudly praising it. 

“ Oh ! ” she cries, abruptly turning from the story she 
has begun. “ What ’s the sense in my sitting here and tell- 
ing you things, when just being here is like a great fairy 
tale. Why, I am not sure I shall dare send young Molly 
to RadclifPe, for in the years before she is ready to enter, 
the college buildings may become altogether too fine for a 
little girl who must return to a simple Southern home.” 

“ Oh, nothing can be too good for Molly — that is, if she 
grows up like you,” protests the younger of the two girls 
sitting at the table with J ulia and Polly. 

“I can’t tell, cousin, whether you mean that Molly’s 
mother is too fond of gorgeous buildings, or whether the 
child’s merits will entitle her to something better than she 
has known.” 

“ I agree with Lucie, — nothing can be too good for 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


321 


Molly,” interposes Julia, laying her hand affectionately on 
Polly’s. 

She is very fond of Polly’s oldest little girl, though 
sometimes amused by Polly’s tremendous seriousness in 
talking of the child’s education. 

As Julia finishes, without apparent cause there comes a 
sudden tremor in Polly’s voice : 

“You don’t understand, Julia, how I envy those girls 
who live near the College, and keep in touch with all its 
progress — like you. Here I am, simply a settled-down 
housekeeper, living far from the centre of civilization — 
and worst of all, I have n’t done a thing I meant to do.” 

“ You may not have written the novel you used to talk 
about, but there is time yet for that — and your volume of 
essays — ” 

“A Christmas booklet, and printed by an admiring 
husband to give away ! ” and Polly’s tone is filled with 
scorn for her own work. 

“ Yet you know as well as I, my dear Polly, that your 
little volume has attracted a wonderful amount of atten- 
tion ; and you have two little daughters who will put you 
closely in touch with Radcliffe some day.” 

Polly has the grace to redden as Julia speaks, for her 
friend’s words are true. Her witty essays, intended only 
for her friends, have come under the eyes of a great critic, 
who has given them unstinted praise. 

“ All the same,” rejoins Polly, with a pout that recalls 
her college days, “you must admit it ’s hard never to come 
to Commencement. Something always prevents. Once it 


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was measles, for the children, and this year I had mumps 
myself. The last Alumnae dinner, as you described it, 
was something worth seeing. I can barely imagine hun- 
dreds of Alumnae dining in this hall, and listening to 
bright speeches. Oh, I must come next time, even though 
I shall feel a little sad when I think of all the changes.” 

“ Come,” cries the youngest of the group, who thus far 
has had little to say. “ It ’s better to look forward than 
back.” 

“Yes,” adds Lucie; “melancholy doesn’t sit well on 
your brow, cousin Polly, though we undergraduates enjoy 
hearing you tell of the things that were. So try to look 
pleasant.” 

“ Don’t abuse a cousin’s privileges, child. Except for 
my persuasions, a hard-hearted family might not have let 
you leave home.” 

“ Except for the building of Bertram Hall, you mean ; 
they did not approve of the dormitoryless college that you 
attended.” 

“ Well, we were just as contented, if not as well off, 
even if we had no dormitory, nor students’ house, nor 
athletic fields, nor a great library, like the one over there 
that is now building. I may be an old fogey, but somehow 
it won’t seem like the same Radcliffe when it fills all the 
spare space between Fay House and the Square.” 

“That day is still far enough off. Yet Harvard isn’t 
ruined by possessing the Stadium, and the Union, and 
Soldiers’ Field — and any number of new things. So why 
should improvements hurt Radcliffe ? ” 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFEE 


323 


“ At any rate it will be long before we must have our 
Class Day speeches given through a megaphone in the 
open air, because no hall will hold us and our friends,” and 
then, after accepting Polly’s reproof, Lucie turns to answer 
many questions about the doings of her class. 

“ But after all,” comments Julia, as Lucie finishes, “ we 
were n’t so awfully behind the times in our day. Our plays 
and our operas were something to be proud of. Only, if 
we should talk at length about these things, these young- 
sters would think we cared as much for play as they do, 
and that would be a pity.” 

“We are not so bad,” protests Lucie. 

“ Of course you are not,” rejoins Julia. 

“I will admit you have two sides,” adds Polly, “for I 
have been looking at an annual report and have discovered 
that in work you keep almost equal pace with us. English 
is still taken by the largest number of students, with 
German, French, History, and Latin closely following.” 

“ Did you notice,” asks Julia, “ that several girls have 
taken the Ph.D., and that numbers of girls come every 
year from other colleges to study for their Master’s 
degree ? ” 

“ Yes, my dear, I noticed that, as well as the fact that 
the proportion of specials is decreasing every year, and that 
a new fellowship has been founded, open to Harvard and 
Radcliffe students on equal terms.” 

“ There — there — annual statistics are to be discussed 
only in private. We must hurry off now to go to a Club 
Meeting.” And Lucie adds as she rises: “I hope your 


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BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


researches showed that we still are frivolous enough to 
care for clubs.” 

“ Yes,” — and Polly smiles. “ I discovered on the list 
Anthropological, and Science, and Semitic clubs — they 
did n’t sound frivolous, but still — ” 

“ If you have no engagement this evening, we ’ll invite 
you to a chafing-dish supper ; that will take you back to 
old times, as I have heard you describe them,” and with a 
jesting word or two Lucie and her friend go off. 

After a moment or two of silence, Polly turns to Julia : 

“ The magnificence of this great wainscoted hall quite 
overcomes me. There ’s really nothing here to remind us of 
our College of the past, — except — ” and here she pointed 
to a portrait hanging at one end of the long living-room. 

Then the two friends exchange glances. Each knows 
that the other is thinking of her whose recent death has 
caused so much sorrow, — the first President of RadclifPe. 

“ It is almost as if she were with us.” Julia speaks softly, 
looking at the portrait. “ I am sorry for those students 
who never knew her.” 

‘‘Yet those who have no personal memories are sure to 
hear of her great influence in upbuilding the College.” 

“ Certainly she could have had no finer memorial than 
this great building,” continued Julia; “and it is so much 
better than most memorials, because it was built while she 
lived. It was a delight to her to know how much this 
Students’ House meant to the undergraduates. Just see 
them coming in here by the dozen, and I suppose one would 
find some girls now in every club-room in the building, 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


325 


not to mention those who are reheaming the new play in 
the theatre.” 

“ As I said before, I envy them,” rejoins Polly. 

“Are you half as discontented as you pretend to be, 
Polly?” asks Julia. “At first I thought you were not in 
earnest, but certainly there ’s a little shadow on your face 
just now.” 

“ I never pretend, and I think I ought to be discontented 
when I think how much less I have accomplished than you, 
for example.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” 

“ But some of your songs have been published, and 
you have been able to carry out some of the philanthropic 
plans of your youth — with the greatest success, every one 
says.” 

“ How can you be sure that I may not have many un- 
gratified ambitions?” asks Julia. “It is well to know 
one’s limitations, and I have discovered mine. It is not 
likely that I shall publish any more music. The world 
needs many persons to play the role of appreciator — and 
this I am sure is to be my role.” 

“ Oh ! Juha, you will be more than that.” 

“ I am not sure that any one ought to wish to be more 
than that.” 

“ I understand you,” replies Polly, “ and you make me 
half ashamed of my discontent. Yet none of your friends 
would agree that your role is only that of an appreciator. 
You have shown very clearly that you are one of the persons 
who do things. It ’s very amusing, too,” continues Polly, 


326 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“to hear some of the criticisms of you and your work. 
Even at my distance from the world I have heard some of 
them.” 

“ What do they say ? ” 

“Nothing very alarming. You must take it to be a sign 
that people regard you as of some importance when they 
begin to criticize you.” 

“ But what can they say ? ” 

“Well, some persons wonder how long before you be- 
come a pauper, if you continue to spend your money on your 
domestic science school ; and some praise your success and 
say it ’s all because you went to college ; and some wonder 
that you have not married, and say that this is on account 
of your going to college.” 

Julia makes no immediate reply. But Polly, looking at 
her keenly, assumes a teasing tone. 

“ There, there,” she cries, “ you are actually blushing. 
I believe there is something in it.” 

“In what?” queries Julia. “In the fallacy that a col- 
lege girl does not marry ? Here are you to contradict it, 
and on the other side, Edith Blair, with every advantage, 
as her mother says, and constantly in society, is not even 
engaged.” 

“ Yes, and in contrast there is Pamela, who would have 
made a charming old maid, but instead is married, and 
would be a shining social light if she ’d only condescend to 
frivolity.” 

“Pamela is fitted for any position in life,” said Julia. 

“ Oh, surely — but you must admit that the ‘ Richard- 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


327 


son heroines,’ as we dubbed her and Clarissa in their first 
month of college, were rather different from the rest of us. 
But have you the latest news from Clarissa ? ” 

“ Yes, the very latest — a letter a day or two ago. She 
tries to apologise for turning away from the hospital work 
in which she has been so successful, but as a physician’s 
wife she says she believes she will be even more useful to 
the community.” 

“ Really, Clarissa is wonderful. She is bound to do good, 
whatever her special vocation ; and yet — ” and Polly 
sighs — “ she has n’t carried out the ambitions of her college 
days, any more than I have.” 

“So far as I can judge,” replies Julia, smiling, “of those 
we knew best, Annabel is almost the only one who lives up 
to her ideals. She wished to be a social leader, and, thanks 
to her father’s money and her own tact, she is just where 
she wished to be. To be sure, there is Esther Harris, who 
was rather more a friend of mine than of yours — she is 
living the life of a settlement worker in New York, and 
that is what she planned for her future, even when she was 
in college.” 

“And I hear that Madge Burlap is a prosperous business 
woman.” 

“ If we should call the roll of the class, and if all would 
answer truthfully — ” 

“ As of course they would — ” 

“Well, I do not beheve we should find three ready to 
admit they had made a mistake in their vocation and would 
rather be something or somebody else.” 


328 


BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 


“And I certainly wouldn’t be one of the three.” 

Julia, looking up, sees that Polly is trying to hide a smile 

“ Polly, you wretch ! All this time I believe you have 
been only making believe. You are just as contented with 
your particular sphere as I am with mine.” 

“ Of course I am. How could you think anything else ? 
I am even contented with the new Radcliffe, although it is 
so overwhelmingly prosperous. I am willing also that it 
should continue to progress until Molly is ready to come 
here — for nothing can be too good for her — and after all, 
in spite of changes, I can see that the spirit here is the 
same, that it is still the old College.” 

“ Just as you are the old Polly,” exclaims Julia affection- 
ately, as the two friends walk down the broad stairs and out 
into the quadrangle. 

Their college days are long past, and yet as college was 
the bond that drew them to each other, so it will be the 
bond to hold them together, in the riper years that stretch 
before them. 






HELEN LEAH REED’S 

“BRENDA' BOOKS 


The author is one of the best equipped of our writers for girls of larger growth. 
Her stories are strong, intelligent, and wholesome. — The Outlook^ New York. 
Miss Reed’s girls have all the impulses and likes of real girls as their characters 
are developing, and her record of their thoughts and actions reads like a chapter 
snatched from the page of life. — Boston Herald. 


BRENDA, HER SCHOOL AND HER CLUB 

Illustrated by Jessie Wilcox Smith. i2mo. $1.50. 

One of the most natural books for girls. It is a careful study of schoolgirl life in 
a large city, somewhat unique in its way. — Minneapolis Journal. 

BRENDA’S SUMMER AT ROCKLEY 

Illustrated by Jessie Wilcox Smith. i2mo. $1.50. 

It is a wholesome book, telling of a merry and healthy vacation. — Dial^ Chicago. 

BRENDA’S COUSIN AT RADCLIFFE 

Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. i2mo. $1.50. 

No better college story has been written. — Providence News. 

BRENDA’S BARGAIN 

Illustrated by Ellen Bernard Thompson. i2mo. $1.50. 

The story deals with social settlement work, under conditions with which the 
author is familiar. — The Bookman^ New York. 

AMY IN ACADIA 

Illustrated by Katherine Pyle. i2mo. $1.50. 

A splendid tale for girls, carefully written, interesting and full of information con- 
cerning the romantic region made famous by the vicissitudes of Evangeline. — 
Toronto Globe. 

BRENDA’S WARD 

Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. i2mo. $1.50. 

The story details the experience of a Chicago girl at school in Boston, and very 
absorbing those experiences are — full of action and diversity. — Chicago Post. 


LITTLE, BROWN, y COMPANY, Publishers 

254 WASHINGTON ST., BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS 


Another Popular ^‘Brenda"' Story 


AMY IN ACADIA 

By HELEN LEAH REED 

Author of ** Brenda's Wardf etc. 

Illustrated by Katharine Pyle. 12mo. Decorated Cloth, $1.50 


A delightful scene for a tale that arouses and holds the 
young reader’s attention and sympathies from the begin- 
ning. — Washington Star. 

The entire story is full of life, action, and entertainment, 
as well as information. — Newark Advertiser. 

Amy, now a college senior, and some of her friends have 
various unique experiences, and incidentally introduce a 
great many historical details concerning the descendants 
of the exiled Acadians in the romantic region of Clare in 
Nova Scotia. — New York Sun. 

A splendid tale for girls, carefully written, interesting, 
and full of information concerning the romantic region 
made famous by the vicissitudes of Evangeline. — Toronto 
Globe. 

The adventures of Amy and her girl friends among the 
descendants of the exiled Acadians have a spice of novelty 
to them. — Philadelphia Press. 

So well written that it holds the attention of the young 
reader, and so well developed in its story as to prove 
without question another popular addition to the young 
folks’ library. — Boston Journal. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers 
254 Washington Street, Boston 


; The Latest Popular Brenda ” Booh 


BRENDA’S WARD 

By HELEN LEAH REED 

Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. 12mo. 
Decorated Cloth, |1.50 


Pictures a Western girl’s school life in Boston, and the 
story is told with spirit and fine sentiment. . . . The 
girls whose lives are told of are merry and of wholesome 
temperament. — Portland (Ore.) Oregonian. 

The story is full of seeing, doing, enjoying, and accom- 
plishing. — Kansas City Star. 

The tale throughout is sweet and wholesome. . . . The 
character sketching is consistent and firm, and the dialogue 
natural. — Boston Transcript. 

The young Western girl who enters Brenda’s life is 
sweet and charming, and will appeal to all. — Philadelphia 
Ledger. 

The characters are all brimful of wholesome human 
interest with Brenda as a paramount attraction. — Pitts- 
burg Bulletin. 

A new Brenda book is always sure of a welcome. . . . 
Of all the stories for girls these books rank among the 
best. The movement of these narratives is rapid, there 
is an abundance of natural and entertaining incident, and 
the characters are sharply drawn and developed with 
masterly skill and rare powers of sympathetic analysis. 
— Kennebec (Me.) Journal. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers 
254 Washington Street, Boston 


A Story for Younger Girls 

IRMA AND NAP 

By HELEN LEAH REED 
Author of “ Amy in Acadia,” The “ Brenda ” Books, etc. 
Illustrated by Clara E. Atwood. 12mo. $1.25 


A brightly written story about 
children from eleven to thirteen 
years of age, who live in a suburban 
town, and attend a public grammar 
school. The book is full of incident 
of school and home life. 

The story deals with real life, and 
is told in the simple and natural 
style which characterized Miss 
Reed’s popular “Brenda” stories. — 

Washington Post. 

There are little people in this 
sweetly written story with whom 
all will feel at once that they have 
been long acquainted, so real do 
they seem, as well as their plans, 
their play, and their school and 
home and everyday life. — Boston Courier. 

Her children are real; her style also is natural and 
pleasing. — The Outlook^ New York. 

Miss Reed’s children are perfectly natural and act as 
real girls would under the same circumstances. Nap is a 
lively little dog, who takes an important part in the 
development of the story. — Christian Register, Boston. 

A clever story, not a bit preachy, but with much influ- 
ence for right living in evidence throughout. — Chicago 
Evening Post. 



LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 

254 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON 





















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